


Life Changing

by slytherinmania



Series: Eleanor's life [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ballet, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Female Harry Potter, Good Slytherins, Greater Good Dumbledore, Potter Twins, Slytherin Politics, Slytherins Being Slytherins, kind of Dumbledore bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-27 03:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16694698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinmania/pseuds/slytherinmania
Summary: When Eleanor Edwards, a ballet dancer and star-pupil is told of a world beyond her imagination, she finds an explanation for many of the things that have been bothering her all her life. An orphan, adopted at six years of age, she cannot wait to find some place away from her excellence demanding guardians, and the Wizarding World of Britain seems like the perfect solution. With a mind made for the politics of Slytherin, how will she change the story of Harry Potter?A Potter-twins story, with a slytherin twin and Harry kept as true to canon as possible.





	1. Controlled

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing, make no money, etc etc. JKR does. You all know this.

**June 21st 1991**

 

”Eleanor! We’re leaving in five!”

A small girl with jet-black hair looked in the mirror securing her bun with a hairpin and pulled on a bottle-green jumper; the same exact shade as her eyes. A new find she was quite proud of since it made her eyes stand out even more than usual.

”Just a second Anne!” She yelled down the stairs while grabbing her pointe shoes and stuffing them in her bag.

Today would be her first performance en pointe and everything had to be perfect. As always. Taking one last look in the mirror and fixing a pleasant smile on her face she pulled the bag over her shoulder and walked down the stairs to the hall where her adoptive parents David and Anne Edwards were waiting. It wasn’t because of some attachment to her biological parents, she didn’t know anything about them, that she never called them mum or dad. Their relationship just didn’t work that way.

”Next time do remember to be ready earlier Eleanor. We shouldn’t have to wait around for you.” Anne frowned.

Nodding Eleanor stamped down her irritation and answered. “Yes, Anne. I promise.” She knew she wasn’t actually late but arguing it would be useless.

David took her bag and put it in the trunk of his new car, a BMW M5 which he was endlessly fond of, and they drove away. Gazing out the window from the backseat Eleanor could just lose herself in her thoughts. She knew the choreography for today by heart and didn’t have to worry about it. She’d been living with the Edwards’ for over four years now and danced ballet for most of that time. Sometimes it was still hard to believe she’d gone from the orphanage to this life of luxury. Right, the orphanage. Those years were rather difficult and she hated to think about them. By the age of six she’d learned most of life’s brutal lessons from the other kids stuck in the system. She still lived by those lessons and would never forget them, but in her opinion that was only a good thing. _People are selfish and cruel. Never let them see that they hurt you. Fit in or rise above, don’t let them put you down._ And now, having been adopted by the fairly rich she knew the other side of the coin as well. At first these people weren’t as easy to predict as the orphans were but slowly she learned them too. _People respect power and money. Always remember the rules so you don’t get caught breaking them. To most family is everything._ She prided herself on always knowing how to act and what to do to get what she wanted. Being familiar with others’ motivations helped with that. Glancing at her watch she noted they had twenty minutes to reach the venue and decided to go through the choreo one more time in the mind. Ballet was the one thing she truly enjoyed of the things her guardians had made her do. After they’d changed her last name from Potter to Edwards and explained that she’d have tutors before applying for a few of London’s private schools for Year 3, they’d asked whether learning an instrument or ballet classes were what she wanted. She chose ballet, as she’d once seen pictures of the dancers in a book and fallen in love with how beautiful they were. Her progress had been quite fast with her long limbs and abnormal patience for a child, a useful trait learned at the orphanage. Now doing her _grand jetés_ and _pas de chats_ and extending to an _arabesque_ is a freedom she treasures. Freedom from all those rules imposed on her and the feeling of being alive while stretching her body and gliding into movements in no way natural. The one thing she actually wants to do and doesn’t just consider a necessity to get to where she wants in life. And yes she does see the potential for hilarity in that her one freedom is a dance known for its strictness and competitiveness, thank you very much.

She’s suddenly jolted out of her musings by David’s voice. “As promised we’ll be giving you the new Hermes Birkin you wanted since your teachers informed us of your excellent grades this year, but was there something else if your performance goes well today?” he asked looking at Eleanor via the rear-view mirror.

She had gotten used to her guardians bribing her, as well as sort of trying to buy her affection a long time ago. Last time she’d asked for a fitting for Gaynor minden pointe shoes when presented with a similar question, so she had to take a moment to decide. _More spending money or something functional?_

“Could the empty room on my floor possibly be converted to a proper dance studio with a fixed barre, please? I’d have more space in my room for a desk and bookshelves that way and wouldn’t need to use your study David.”

She had the necessities for doing her exercises in her bedroom, like a single large mirror and an adjustable barre, but it would be so much simpler having a studio. Not to mention she wouldn’t have to deal with David and Anne as often. The Edwards weren’t bad people, not really, but they clearly just wanted a talented child to show around and boast about. And adopting rather than having biological children of their own was an image thing as well. _‘The oh so generous Edwards who gave the poor orphan girl a chance.’_

“Of course! We can get it done by the time you come home from the intensive.” David smiled and turned to Anne, “If we’re doing that already would you like some other thing renovated as well darling?”

At that Eleanor tuned them out again. Anne would probably want to redecorate some room or another and David would let her do whatever she wished. Even their house in the Belgravia district of London, had been Anne’s choice. She was from old money, her father Franklin’s family, and probably couldn’t live frugally even if she tried. She’d been a model until switching to a news anchor after turning 27. David on the other hand is a successful businessman and it’s mainly on his money the family lives. The two have a twelve year age difference as David was born in -45 and Anne in -57. Eleanor could understand that. After all her relationship with them worked in a similar way as those two, an understanding of sorts. Anne gets to keep the lifestyle and be in the same social circles she’s used to while David gets a beautiful wife and the connections her name brings. _And there’s some feelings involved too, I guess. At least on David’s side of things._ That was the incomprehensible part.

 

* * *

  
  
Arriving to the venue Eleanor immediately looked for her ballet teacher, finally finding her waiting just outside the dressing rooms. The beautiful French woman in her thirties was standing there with the same clipboard as always, one which contained all her students’ names.

“Bonsoir Madame Adele. Ça va?” Eleanor said in greeting. She’d been studying French, Italian, Spanish, Russian and Latin for years at school and was reasonably fluid in the first two and good in the written parts of the latter ones.

“Ça va bien. Katarina and Sarah are the only others of your group here, but you can start warming up right after getting your outfits in order.” She said smiling and winked. “I know you’re excited for your first en pointe performance ma chére.”

“How could I not be?” Eleanor grinned. It took all of her self-control not to start jumping up and down from all the emotion swirling inside her.

“Go on then!” Adele laughed and pushed Eleanor lightly towards the door she’d been standing in front of.

Adele Clemence was possibly the only adult Eleanor had ever been fond of. She always had certain expectations for her students but as long as you were improving and clearly working your hardest she was fair and an all round wonderful teacher. She seemingly had no other motive than wanting to teach her art to the next generation. A rare type of person. Most wanted something out of it, be it money, renown or whatever else.

She suddenly had a handful of readhead as Sarah ran to hug her “Hi Eleanor! Knew you’d be here any minute.” She smiled up at Eleanor who was fairly tall for her age, nearly eleven, at 4ft 11in. “We took your dress out with ours.”

Katarina came over rolling her eyes. “Good to see you Eleanor. Sarah, let go of her she can barely breathe with you hanging off her, little monkey.”

“Hi Kat, Sarah.” Eleanor said as Sarah jumped away giggling.

These two girls were the closest Eleanor had ever come to having true friends. Sarah O’Farrell and Katarina Lebedev, whom she’d met when she began her pointe-shoe training and was moved up to a different group from the one she’d been in since she turned seven. Everyone else were either annoyances, acquaintances or allies.

“Adele told me to get our dresses on and start the warm-ups immediately.” Eleanor said gesturing towards the hangers where three pale blue short dresses were.

“Lets get on with it then.” Katarina clapped her hands and soon the three were done and doing the resistance band stretches before putting their shoes on. They continued with their arch and hamstring stretches and the rest of their routine ending with rises and balances. At this point the rest of the group of ten had trickled in and Adele would already be waiting near the stage. The nerves were kicking in but they were the good kind. Eleanor didn’t think she’d ever tire of ballet.

 

* * *

  
  
_That girl is going into her glissade way too early! We are going to collide!_ Eleanor thought frantically. Samantha would be coming straight at her, ruining her first performance. _A miracle would be appreciated just about now._ A moment of desperation. She did not want to be humiliated in this way. But just as Samantha would’ve touched Eleanor and pushed her off balance it was almost as if something invisible sprung to life around her and kept the other girl just shy of her body. While Samantha tumbled to the ground, Eleanor could just continue as she had been with no interruption. Her mind was trying to question what the hell just happened, but she resolutely pushed the thoughts aside to focus on _after_ the show. The rest of which went without a hitch.

After hugs and roses from the Edwards Eleanor went to greet her friend’s families. Katarina’s parents are just as cold toward strangers as Eleanor’s, but they actually do love their daughter, while Sarah’s mother is the sweetest person ever and her father mostly absent. Eleanor respected the Lebedevs immensely for managing to raise as grounded a person as Katarina without their wealth making her whiny and spoiled. And of course you just got the feeling of _danger do not cross_ from her father and being deemed acceptable by such a man was Eleanor’s proof she was doing something right. Valentin Lebedev never meddled in the things that were most important to his daughter and that included her friends. But if he didn’t approve he’d just show it in his actions. For some reason Eleanor had passed muster and the man sometimes favored her with a quirk of the lips that for him equalled a beaming smile.

“We’ll see in about two weeks right?” Sarah asked giving me one last hug before we left.

“Yeah, now that normal ballet class has ended for the term David and Anne want me to go to a week intensive.” Eleanor said grimacing.

“Careful there, you’re already the best in the group, they’ll soon have to move you up again and what are we to do then?” Katarina smirked.

“I know. They want me to advance at a ridiculous pace." False modesty would get her nowhere in life "Can’t really do anything about it though can I? Complaining is out, because that might be taken as not being _enthusiastic enough_ about ballet and _what are we then paying all this money for_.” Eleanor shrugged.

“Guess not.” Sarah answered. “Speak of the devil. They’re coming from behind you.” She ended in a whisper.

Turning around and hitching a charming expression back on Eleanor looked at her guardians.

“Are we leaving then?” She asked politely.

“Yes Eleanor. We have an early morning tomorrow as you should remember. Ms. Lebedev, O’Farrell beautiful work as always.” Anne said looking pleased. _No doubt about the fact I’d befriended other talented kids._

“Give your parents our regards.” David added.

Eleanor’s friends chorused their thanks and then she and her guardians were on their way back home. Now back in the car she could allow herself to think about what happened during the dance. By all accounts she should’ve been knocked over by Samantha. Not that that even ranked on her strange scale. From time to time when she let her emotions get the best of her odd things happened. Just a few months ago when Anne’s parents had been attending dinner and fossil-Franklin had been going on another racist and sexist rant, she’d been extremely frustrated by the fact she wasn’t allowed to argue. Then suddenly Franklin’s glass had exploded just as she was ready to excuse herself. Sometimes she could swear she made her leaps impossibly long. And of course when she still lived in the orphanage the strange things happened much more often and were more obvious. Like that one time when the older kids had been hurting her a year before she was adopted.

 

Flashback:

 

“We know it was you who turned Alice’s hair blue Freak!”

“You wanted to embarrass her didn’t you? Wanted her to get punished didn’t you?!”

“We’ll teach you not to do that again Freak. You hear me Freak? No more doing things like that!”

“Answer Freak!”

But I wouldn’t do it. I know nothing I say will help me. They had no proof but still went after me. Maybe one of the matrons might notice what is going on before they could hurt me. I stand my back against the tree they’d cornered me at. Shoulders rounded and eyes downcast I hope I look pitiful enough that they’ll either leave me alone or be fast about their “teaching”.

SLAP! A hand connects with my cheek throwing my head to the side and leaving behind a sting. It’ll bruise. I know that much.

“I told you to answer.”

It’s the ringleader of their little gang. Not all of the kids in their gang are from the orphanage, a few I think are from the school.

“Maybe it’s turned mute. Wouldn’t that be a gift to society.” One of them laughs.

I haven’t of course. I just know no matter what I say, they’ll get even more creative with their insults and that might make me cry. Crying is not allowed. This way they’ll tire of taunting me.

A leg kicks mine from under me and I fall on my hands and knees. They cackle and howl with laughter and I swear I’ll get revenge one day. I know better than to try and get up. I won’t let them play their favorite game. Another kick lands on my shoulder forcing my arms to give out. I curl up to protect myself the best I can. A few more kicks to my legs and my back and I’m afraid they’re going to break something. But I won’t move.

“Look at it, they should just kill it. A pathetic little whelp that doesn’t even try. Maybe we should do it for them!”

And they’re whooping. Bastards. Idiotic bastards who know nothing. I raise my head and glare at John. I wish with everything in me I could make him hurt for all the times they’ve hurt me. Make them hurt and be afraid of me. To never dare touch me again. John starts aiming a kick to my head and I see red. They will NOT hurt me.

The leg never delivers the blow, because suddenly John is screaming and falling to the ground. Begging for it to stop. Writhing and sobbing. And then a sound pierces through the fog my brain has fallen into.

“Stop it Eleanor! Please! Stop it!”

I’m shocked back into myself and John stops screaming. I look around and all the other kids have backed far away from me. Everything is still and silent but for John’s hiccuping sobs. I pick myself up off the ground and straighten my small body wincing slightly at the pain.

“Stay away from me.”

 

End of flashback

 

Eleanor’s convinced all the strange things have somehow been caused by her but she can't figure out how. It makes no logical sense whatsoever but what else can one think. Something about her can make her do things that shouldn't be possible. If she had never been adopted she could perhaps have figured it out by now, since back then it was almost intentional. But just gaining that knowledge isn't enough for her to actually wish she hadn't been adopted. Even if the curiosity is killing her. She shouldn't think about these things. Not just because it's frustrating, but it reminds her of the orphanage and that's just painful. And maybe it scares her a little that she feels only satisfaction when recalling John. The majority of people would feel guilty about causing that type of suffering. The disregard she has for anyone who she doesn't like is slightly alarming and Eleanor is pretty sure something inside her is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the shortest chapter by far, but I just didn't see any point in forcing it any longer than it is now. I've nearly finished this first year and will be posting a new chapter once a week, so that I have time to go over them before posting to reacquaint myself with it since I'm so far ahead.  
> This is my first fanfic I've published here. I started one in Quotev but never finished it since I hated it after taking a break. Made my character into a Mary Sue without realizing. So this is kind of take two.  
> I don't really fully understand how this place works so if anyone thinks I should change and/or add something in the tags or otherwise I'd appreciate you letting me know.  
> I'm also aware my writing is influenced by the fanfiction I read myself. I don't always remember if something that's in my head is something I came up with myself, is canon or I found in fanfiction. I'm trying my best but if you think my plot is too similar to something you've read before, please inform me.  
> Thanks and bye!


	2. Meeting of worlds

**July 15th 1991**

 

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and Transfiguration teacher was getting ready to do the second muggle-born introduction of the summer. The student’s letter, an information leaflet for the parents and an introductory book for the student went into a handbag. Minerva checked the address again, and couldn’t help but feel a jittery anxiousness. They rarely got muggle-born from the higher echelons of muggle society and if she remembered correctly Belgravia was one of the most expensive districts in London. Nearest apparition point with muggle-repellent charms would be in Hyde Park. She’d had to arrange a meeting time with the Edwards to speak about a boarding school opportunity using one of those muggle phones. She rarely had to use such things but sometimes situations such as these cropped up and she’d taught herself how to do it after one too many questions about the schools validity if it doesn’t even have a phone number. The only thing causing her slight nervousness were her clothes. These were influential people who wouldn’t appreciate her showing up at their door wearing robes. And muggle fashion evolved so much faster than witches and wizards, so even though her father had been a muggle and they’d lived in the muggle world, she often struggled with dressing appropriately. She hoped the suit she’d got from a tailor’s six years ago would still do. The pinstripe blazer had big shoulders she had never quite understood the reason for and the length of it covered about half of the red skirt which reached exactly to her knees. Heels she patently refused to even consider, they were uncomfortable and unnecessary. Ready to go, she strode out of her rooms, where she’d moved full time after the death of her husband, and descended all the way down to the main doors. Walking all the way to the town of Hogsmeade to apparate gave her time to think on a strategy. Convincing Ms. Edwards’ parents to let her come to Hogwarts would likely be difficult, as it always was with the families that had a set of expectations for their offspring. It might be fine, but she wasn’t going to count on it. Thankfully she’d been doing this for many years now and had experience with all types of reactions. Reaching the edge of the school’s wards she spun around and apparated away with a crack.

 

From Hyde Park it was a twenty minute walk to the Edwards’ home. Ringing the doorbell she stepped back and waited only a few seconds before the door was opened presumably by Miss Edwards’ herself if her stature was anything to go by. Minerva was hit with a sense of familiarity as the girl’s features reminded her strongly of someone, but she couldn’t figure out who.

 

“Professor McGonagall I assume?” The girl asked smiling politely and pushed the door wider open. “Welcome, please come in.”

 

“Yes and thank you.” Minerva nodded her head and stepped in the gorgeous hall. If she hadn’t known before that these people were wealthy it would’ve been obvious now. A beautiful chandelier was hanging from the high ceiling and paintings lined the walls, broken only by four different doors, continuing up the staircase at the end of the hall.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, my name is Eleanor Edwards.” Ms Edwards said opening the closest door to the front. A coat room by what Minerva could glimpse. “I can take your blazer if you wish?”

 

“A pleasure.” Revealing the white silk blouse underneath Minerva handed the jacket to Ms Edwards. “And yes, please.”

 

After putting Minerva’s blazer away Ms Edwards turned back to her and gestured towards another door. “My guardians are waiting in the drawing room, follow me please.”

 

Mrs and Mr Edwards stood up from the couch they were sitting on when Minerva stepped in.

 

“Professor, these are my guardians David and Anne Edwards. Anne, David, Professor Minerva McGonagall.” Eleanor said inclining her head to each of us in turn.

 

Mr. Edwards stepped forward to shake Minerva’s hand. “Pleased to meet you Professor McGonagall. We have been looking forward to this meeting since our call.”

 

“You as well Mr. Edwards.” Minerva answered.

 

Mrs Edwards shook her hand next. “We are always looking for new opportunities for Eleanor so an exclusive school we’d never even heard of piqued our interest. Especially as she already has applied for several other schools.” The woman was smiling, but there was a sharpness to it saying that so far she wasn’t impressed. Minerva deduced that the only one actually interested was the husband. “Please, do sit down and lets talk.” Mrs Edwards said indicating one of the wingbacks across from the couch she and her husband had been sitting in.

 

Minerva settled in the armchair upholstered in blue fabric with deeper blue embroidery, while Ms Edwards chose one between Minerva and her parents. Now that she thought about it, the girl only called the two adults her guardians, never parents. Could she be adopted then? She did look somewhat similar with black hair just as dark as Mr Edwards' and quite tall like both parents, not obviously adopted, but there was no clear family resemblance.

 

There was a tea set on the low table in the center of the seating arrangement and David poured four cups. “How would you like yours professor?”

 

“A sugar and very little cream, please.” Minerva answered and took a sip before beginning. “I have to begin by saying that there is a single specific reason our school is exclusive and not well known. Your daughter fits our criteria and has had a spot since birth without applying beforehand. There are no tuition fees as the ministry has paid for every student’s schooling for decades. The only thing you need to pay for are the student’s supplies. It’s a boarding school up in Scotland and the school year lasts from September first to the third week of June, with holidays during Christmas and Easter when the student can come home. Schooling begins at eleven or twelve and the final exams are after seven years when the students are seventeen to eighteen.” Minerva paused in her speech to gauge reactions so far. She always began with the technical information so it was assimilated before the shock of magic destroyed most people’s concentration. It was hard to say, with the whole family so controlled and cold, but she thought there was some definite interest and confusion. She reached into her purse and took out everything she would need to give to the family, laying the papers on her lap. “The reason your daughter is admissible is because of an innate talent she has.” Turning to talk directly to her hopefully new student, Minerva continued. “Do you remember any instances in which something happened that should not be possible?” Watching the girl carefully, the only reaction Minerva could see was the widening of her eyes and then the slight shift of her expression to mistrust. Merlin, but the girl was good. “It’s what I would expect from those granted admittance to our school.” Minerva added in order to get Ms Edwards to speak. She had a feeling the girl wouldn’t respond well to being asked to ‘trust me’.

 

Ms Edwards eyes flicked to her parents so quickly Minerva would’ve missed it hadn’t she been staring. “I’ve experienced such things yes.” She said with no change to her expression, admirable control for someone only ten years old. No one that young could have a completely blank mask, but she was rivaling even some of the older Slytherins.

 

Minerva smiled softly and nodded to herself. “Those instances of irrational happenings were caused by you. Everyone who comes to the school I teach at has the ability to make spectacular things happen, things that are normally impossible.”

 

Anne, Minerva thought the woman’s name was, scoffed. “With all due respect professor, are you meaning to say that Eleanor has some superhuman talents? Because I find that a ridiculous notion. If you are here to just try and mock us..”

 

Minerva stopped her tirade before it had time to become a full blown one by raising a placating hand. “My intentions are not to mock, but provide information. Would you like a demonstration of what is possible using our talent?” She asked.

 

“Yes, please do professor.” the other woman sneered with more than a smidge of sarcasm in her voice.

 

Minerva glanced at the girl and saw unbridled hunger shining in her eyes rather than the wariness from earlier. Pausing slightly to choose the most convincing thing that would also not be seen as disrespectful by the adults. Coming to a conclusion she moved the papers on her lap to the table. Suddenly where Minerva had been sitting a tabby cat had appeared.

 

David’s teacup nearly fell in his shock. “What on earth..” He muttered.

 

Minerva sat there looking around for a minute before transforming back. “That is my animagus form, requiring the fields of charms, potions and transfiguration to achieve, the last of which I teach at Hogwarts.” She explained to the quiet room. The other adult’s expressions were pure shock, Minerva figured their daughter had then kept the odd things to herself. A common enough occurrence, especially if the girl was adopted and Mr and Mrs Edwards had never seen the amount of accidental magic most toddlers throw around. At that age it’s purely instinctual and happens quite often.

 

David shook his head in disbelief. “How? What is it?”

 

Anne seemed affronted by her husband’s acceptance and was glaring at him about to open her mouth but Minerva beat her to it. “It’s magic. Your daughter is a witch and needs to be taught how to use the power she has. That’s what Hogwarts is for.” She grabbed the information leaflet, handing it to the parents and then gave the acceptance letter to the waiting hands of Eleanor. “You can read those and then I can answer any questions you have.”

 

Some moments later the family of three was done with their reading. Minerva had been patiently waiting while swirling her tea and taking occasional sips.

 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve by doing this all, but we’re not buying it!” Anne exploded. “You have no right! No right to say these things.” She was breathing heavily and her eyes looked murderous.

 

Glancing at Ms Edwards Minerva could again see the blank mask the girl seemed to favor; she’d shut down the second Anne started yelling.

 

“Anne, I need a word.” David grunted standing up. “Excuse us professor we need a moment. Would you mind answering any questions Eleanor has while we’re talking?” He shot an apologetic look first to his daughter then turned to Minerva.

 

“It’s perfectly fine.” Minerva said waving them out. After the door clicked shut and the two sets of steps faded away she turned back to Ms Edwards.

“I’m terribly sorry for her. I never did tell them any of my own suspicions.” The girl shrugged helplessly.

 

“No matter. Did you have some questions for me then?” Minerva smiled to the polite little girl.

 

Again that hunger lit in the green eyes and Minerva could finally tell what it was caused by. The thirst for knowledge. Whether it was for everything or just this previously unexplainable thing about her would remain to be seen. The answering “Yes” was nearly breathless. “The leaflet gave the bare bones of the subjects taught, but what can you do with them? What kind of professions are there? Are there specialization schools after Hogwarts? What all do I need to know before going to school?” The questions just kept pouring out of her. The Granger girl had had a similar reaction which Minerva found amusing.

 

Minerva thought that there was a definite possibility she’d be a Slytherin based on her questions. “First of all, I’ll give you a book about common things muggle-borns don’t know but should before leaving today. If your parents don’t want me to join you while shopping for supplies, there are books in Flourish & Blotts on the magical society and on any other subjects you might want to find out about before going to school. In addition, Hogwarts has a large library so during the year you can go there to look for information. Now, Transfiguration is very useful in that say you need a ladder to reach something but only have a chair. With Transfiguration you can change that chair temporarily to a ladder. You could solve the same problem with charms by either accioing whatever you needed, meaning it would fly to you, or you could levitate the chair with yourself on top of it to whatever you needed to reach. All the core subjects have these everyday applications and because of that no one is allowed to drop them before sixth year. Career wise, there are a lot of different jobs in the ministry and the private sector. There’s the equivalent of the muggle police force, our aurors, office jobs, international negotiating in a few Departments, healers, the Wizengamot that is the parliament and the high court of law, potions apothecaries, writers, sports careers etc. What you choose to study in addition to the core subjects affects your job opportunities, as do your marks in the final 7th year exams. Most specialization is done by apprenticeships, but there are opportunities on the continent for additional education. The magical community is much smaller than the muggle one and traveling many times faster, so it’s normal for wizards and witches to move around the globe a lot. As for coming to school, I suggest starting to practice writing with a quill immediately and reading the first chapters of all your course books. You have time to learn all about this new world opened for you, so I wouldn’t stress about all the culture books.” She explained while wishing she could follow whatever Ms Edwards was thinking.

 

“How small is the community then? Obviously big enough to warrant its own government and schools, but how big? How big is each class at Hogwarts for example, since the leaflet said nearly all British and Irish magicals go there?” Ms Edwards wondered.

 

Minerva cringed inwardly, because she’d wanted to avoid this topic. “Well, the class sizes used to be much bigger with around 140 students in each year. In recent years unfortunately the numbers have been down with only 40 to 60 students per year.” She shook her head as Ms Edwards was about to answer. “And yes the next logical question is why. The wizarding world isn’t an utopia, and as with muggles we have wars too. They are usually rarer than in the muggle world and often contained in one country at a time, since each government has very different views and usually won’t meddle with others. Grindelwald’s war in the forties was the most recent exception to that. Now, the latest war, called the Wizarding War here in Britain, ended only just under ten years ago in November of -81. The war caused many families to postpone having children as well as killed many young adults who chose to fight. That’s why the number of students is so low at the moment. There should be an upswing in a few years as those born a year or two after the war start coming in.” She sighed. It was better that the muggle-born know this immediately rather than finding out later from unreliable sources. There was a moment of silence as the girl seemed to be considering something. Right as she seemed to have made some sort of decision her parents appeared in the doorway.

 

“Now what did we miss?” David asked sitting back on the couch with Anne following suit silently.

 

Ms Edwards was suddenly beaming at her father. “Nothing much, we were just talking about career opportunities in the magical world.” Minerva was so thrown by the girl’s sudden shift in demeanor that she didn’t notice the lie before it was too late to comment on.

 

“Excellent. You probably already went through the different professions so I won’t concentrate on that now. What I do want to know is does her not having previous contacts in your society affect what jobs she can pursue? And is it mandatory to remain in the ‘wizarding world’ after graduating or could she come back to ours?” David asked.

 

“Staying in magical society isn’t necessary, but when living among muggles, one isn’t allowed to use magic because of arguably our most important law, the Statute of Secrecy, which protects us from exposure. The other question is difficult to answer, since it depends on where you want to go. For example any job associated with our banking system can be attained as long as you have the required skill set since the whole system is owned by another race, the goblins, who don’t care one way or another who the wizard or witch is. But then there are many people in our aristocracy and in the richer part of society who believe that those not from any of the old families are second class citizens. Unfortunately they have a lot of influence in the ministry and it depends on the Department heads whether previous contacts are necessary or not. Networking during school is a good way to counteract some of the prejudice.” Minerva attempted to placate them with the last comment as she could see Anne becoming agitated again.

 

“And why would we send Eleanor to where she’d be considered second class? I’ll have you know that our family…” The woman was beginning to grate on Minerva’s nerves. She was just as stuck up as most highborn the professor had ever met.

 

“Anne. It’s the same way grandfather Franklin sees all newcomers. It is true I’ll be going there as an outsider, I’ll have to just work hard to prove them wrong.” Ms Edwards interrupted.

 

“You want to go there?!” Anne questioned incredulously. “What about all the work you’ve put in your studies at the NLC? What about ballet? You are not quitting that just as we finished your studio young lady!”

 

“You read the papers. I have to be trained, whether it's by homeschooling or going somewhere, and I see going to that school as a great opportunity to make the connections I’ll need if I want to work in that world. And I won’t be cut off from this one either. I can keep up with everything through my acquaintances.” Ms Edwards rolled her eyes subtly at the last word.

 

“Your daughter won’t have to quit ballet either. We won’t have an instructor for her, but there are dance and music rooms in the school from when they were part of the curriculum. The music room is still in use by various extra curricular clubs as well as independent students, but the dance room has been sitting without use for some time now. She’d have the entire space to herself.” Minerva interjected.

 

“And can you do that Eleanor? Improve on your own?” David asked watching the girl.

 

“Yes, of course I can.” She answered without hesitation. “I’ve gotten this far, I’m not about to let it be for nothing.” And they all somehow believed her, how could they not when faced with such a picture of pure determination.

 

“If you were to go to Hogwarts we would require you to keep up with all your language studies on your own and have tutoring for the rest of your normal subjects during the summer.” David informed the rest. Minerva thought that must have been one of the things discussed when they were elsewhere in the house. “Can you handle that as well Eleanor?”

 

“Definitely. I will handle it.” The slight clenching of the girl’s jaw was Minerva’s only clue that she was irritated.

 

“Marvellous. Now that all is done with, do you want me to accompany you to Diagon Alley, the single biggest magical only district in Britain or would you rather go on your own?” Minerva asked, as it seemed the family had finally come to an agreement.

 

“Would it be possible for you to take just Eleanor? My husband and I will be very busy for the upcoming weeks and Eleanor would prefer getting her supplies as fast as possible I’m sure.” Anne proposed immediately quelling her husband with a look.

 

“Certainly, if you just give enough money for Eleanor to change into our currency, which is explained in the book I gave her.” Minerva privately wondered why the parents wouldn’t want to know all about the world they would be sending their daughter in. “Would two days from now be acceptable?”

 

“Yes, thank you professor.” Ms Edwards flashed Minerva a grin.

 

Minerva returned the smile. “Perfect. I’ll come to pick you up at 9 am.”

 

Everyone stood up and exchanged goodbyes before Ms Edwards saw Minerva out. ‘As predicted, it was a difficult one’, Minerva mused as she walked back to the apparition point. The behaviour of the family confused her. She’d seen many outwardly cold families before, but those usually had either very close relationships in the family or they hated each other. That family seemed to fit neither category. She could also be wrong, maybe that was just how they were with strangers. And she’d dropped seemingly impossible news on them as well. At least she’d get to talk with her new student more in two days time. It wasn’t likely Eleanor Edwards would be sorted Gryffindor, which caused some apprehension, since the largest number of students with bigoted views were Slytherin, the house which seemed to fit Eleanor the best alongside Ravenclaw. Perhaps she’d do some good even for the house of snakes. Although it was too quick a meeting to really gauge the girl’s personality, Minerva was confident in her ability to predict student’s houses after 35 years of teaching. And getting to know the girl a little better reminded her again of the feeling she’d gotten when Ms Edwards had first opened the front door. It could be possible if she’d been adopted that Minerva had known the girl’s parents. Quite an absurd idea but possible nonetheless.

 

Reaching the apparition point Minerva cracked back to Hogsmeade. She’d still have time for tea with Pomona who was doing one of her checks on the greenhouses. Minerva’s colleague and friend always spent the summer at the house where she and her husband had raised their kids spending time with her grandchildren, but still visited the greenhouses three times a week. If Minerva remembered correctly, Michael, Pomona’s eldest turned 31 in March and his son would be coming to Hogwarts in five years. Minerva had been friends with Pomona since their school years even though they’d been in different houses and Pomona was four years her elder. Now they were each other’s closest confidantes since her husband had died and Pomona had drifted away from hers during her long years of being a professor.

 

“Pomona, dear, care for a tea?” Minerva called out reaching the open doors of greenhouse number three.

 

“Of course Minerva. Wait just a moment and we can head to my office.” Pomona’s voice sounded from somewhere inside. Soon the woman emerged wiping her hands in an apron. “Had fun today in London?”

 

“The family puzzles me in some ways, but Ms Edwards herself seemed like a proper young lady.” Minerva smiled faintly.

 

“Well, then you must explain over tea.” Pomona said linking their arms at the elbow and led them toward her office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be switching the POV like in this chapter every now and then, but I'll always make it clear whose POV it is from the beginning.
> 
> Thanks to those who've left kudos <3


	3. Surprises

**July 17th 1991**

 

Eleanor was practically vibrating with excitement as she ate her breakfast. Professor McGonagall would be coming by in thirty minutes to take her to Diagon Alley, and she’d been up since six am. The last two days she’d spent reading ‘ _Introduction to the Wizarding Ways’_ to the exclusion of nearly everything else. She wanted to learn as much as possible, now that she’d finally found where to get answers to questions she’d had for years. After the professor had left, Anne had lectured her for an hour about having to keep up with her ‘real’ subjects while away at the boarding school. That she would be expected to have her GCSE’s by the time she turned sixteen and that she should be prepared to spend her summers with tutors. During Anne’s rant Eleanor had obtained a promise, that she would be allowed to buy a bird as a pet, for the purpose of sending mail, by reminding Anne of her need to stay in contact with her friends. Or acquaintances as Anne had taught her to refer to them as. Knowing she had to comply to Anne’s demands, or Anne would do her best to remove Eleanor from Hogwarts, didn’t stop her from trying to squeeze some perks out of it all. And she did like having options in the muggle world, if the magical world became unstable again as the professor had said had happened some years ago. Hence why she didn’t really even try to get Anne to back off. But she really did want to do her best to become part of the new world she’d for now just read about. Already the possibilities magic offered made her never want to give it up. It also occurred to her that there might be some magical way to check who her birth-parents had been. She’d stopped wishing for her real parents at the age of five, as it had never helped any, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to know at least something about them, or any extended family. Even just their names would be enough. She doubted her parents were a witch and wizard since Potter was such a common surname, but she’d ask McGonagall anyway if there was any test to reveal parentage. Hearing the doorbell ring, she grabbed her new black leather Birkin off the kitchen counter, checked that she had the cash David had given her that morning before heading to the office, and went to open front door.

 

“Good morning Ms Edwards. Ready to go I take it?” McGonagall greeted her. She was momentarily thrown by the clothes the professor was wearing. The book had said the fashion would be different, but somehow that hadn’t registered until just then. Professor McGonagall had on a green and black closed robe, something you’d never see anywhere Eleanor had ever lived, and hair in as tight a bun as Eleanor pulled hers for ballet. A flash of unease went through Eleanor. Would she stick out like a sore thumb with her plaid skirt and t-shirt?

 

“Good morning professor McGonagall. And yes I am.” She shifted around nervously, glancing at her own clothes again. And then winced internally at the blatant show of discomfort.

 

“Ah, if you’re worried about your clothes, don’t be. Many of the kids from wizarding families wear clothes such as yours nowadays, they just often have light cloaks or open robes on top of that but not necessarily. And of course many muggle-borns wear purely muggle fashions.” The professor smiled. “Shall we leave then?”

 

Her excitement returning full force, Eleanor nodded with maybe a little too much vigour.

 

“We will be apparating straight from here to Diagon, but after we’ve finished I’ll show you what the entrance looks like from the muggle side so you can find it on your own later.” McGonagall explained. “Apparating is somewhat like what muggles call teleporting. Just grab my arm and don’t let go, and I’ll side-along you.”

 

Eleanor stepped forward to stand next to the professor and grabbed the proffered forearm with both her hands. Side-along apparating was distinctly uncomfortable. The only way she could describe the sensation was being taken apart in tiny pieces, crammed through a tube too small for her and any oxygen sucked out of her lungs. She was glad the whole process was over in the blink of an eye. Landing, the professor’s arm was the only thing keeping her upright as nausea took over.

 

“It’s not the most pleasant way of travel, side-alonging, especially the first times.” McGonagall said sympathetically.

 

Eleanor quickly recovered and then as she registered her surroundings nearly lost her composure again. She dimly heard the professor welcoming her to Diagon Alley, nodding her thanks, but most of her attention was on trying to take in as much as she could as fast as she could. The alley didn’t have that many people walking around as it was too early for most shoppers, and those going to work would have already arrived and began their days. The street was cobbled and looked like it was stuck in the past, with storefronts and displays filled with things she had never even thought could exist. There was a store selling those flying broomsticks she’d read about, and laughed at, another clearly a potions apothecary, some clothing stores, stationary store, something called TerrorTours, a cauldron shop and many, many others. The alley almost looked like it was alive with all the moving advertisements and bright colours. And no neon signs with blinding lights, which were what she was used to. Eleanor snapped out of her wonderment when McGonagall started moving out of the empty square they were in and towards the alley.

 

“It’s not advisable to stand around any apparition point if one doesn’t want to end up having an accident, and as that square is the only apparition point to the entire alley it’s fairly busy.” McGonagall said turning left. “We’ll first go exchange your money for galleons at Gringotts, the goblin bank. It’s that white building right before the fork where Horizont Alley begins. And well, Knockturn too, but you should never go down there.”

 

The bank towered far above the rest of the alley and seemed to be made entirely of white marble. And it was leaning, but Eleanor supposed it didn’t matter since there was magic to support structures. As they walked to the bank, she continued looking around and listened to the street vendors talking with each other while setting up for the day. Nearly all of the people on the alley at the time were adults and most wearing robes or cloaks on top of the types of clothes Eleanor was used to, that being slacks and dresses and such. There were some in just more normal clothes without cloaks, but those were a minority. And no one seemed to be wearing anything that could be counted as trendy in the muggle world. None of the champion sweaters, babydoll dresses or the grunge looks she saw in the magazines. Thankfully the preppy style she favored fit in here well enough. Soon they were at the bank and walked up the steps to the massive burnished bronze doors. A goblin guard stood on each side of the door sneering at them and Eleanor absently noted they looked just as the book had described, short with exaggerated facial features and long arms continuing to long fingers. But she was already looking ahead at the next double doors, also flanked with goblins, and engraved with a warning:

 

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

 

The main hall after the doors was magnificent. Long counters stretched along the walls of the massive, high ceilinged, room and Eleanor noticed dozens of goblins working either at the counters or coming and going from various doors. Two chandeliers, with possibly hundreds of candles burning in each, hung above the centre aisle and lit up the entire hall. McGonagall led them to the counter at the front.

 

“Excuse me, we need to exchange muggle pounds for galleons.” The professor said to one of the empty tellers.

 

Eleanor dug her wallet from her bag and opened it to take the notes out.

 

“How much?” the goblin gruffly asked.

 

“2000 pounds.” Eleanor said handing over the money.

 

The goblin placed the notes in some type of box and the proper amount blinked twice on the top before going blank again. He, Eleanor was positive the goblin was a male, then wrote something on a slip of paper and gave it to a passing goblin. “You’re getting 285 galleons 14 sickles.” The goblin that had disappeared behind a door two down from where they were with the paper, came back with a small leather pouch apparently holding the money. Eleanor grabbed the bag, thanked the goblins and they went back out to the alley.

 

“We should get you fitted for your uniform first at Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions, so that by the time we’ve gotten your trunk the clothes should be finished.” McGonagall said and started guiding them towards the store. “Did you remember to bring your list?”

 

“Yes, it’s here.” Eleanor answered pulling the list out of her bag.

 

“Now, it says that the necessities are only 3 white long sleeve shirts, but I always recommend five of long and 5 short sleeves and instead of just the two grey skirts, three or four would be better. You also have the choice as to what type of skirts you choose as long as they are grey and reach your knees. The school robes are open at the front, have been for decades, even if the list doesn’t specify so. The single jumper and jumper vest are enough unless you want more. And if you don’t have appropriate black shoes for the winter months yet we can pick them up here or you can get them from the muggle world.” The professor listed her suggestions, breaking off only when they reached the front door. “Your tie and winter scarf with house colours will be provided by the school. Just specify to the assistant what you want to add to the order.”

 

They stepped in and a bell jingled at the front counter. There were some racks of clothes at the front, while the back had an area with three footstools and mirrors surrounding them.

 

“Hello Minerva. Another one for Hogwarts?” A squat smiling woman with pure white hair walked up to them from behind one of the clothing racks.

 

“Morning Anette. And yes, Ms Edwards here.” McGonagall answered.

 

“Good morning madam.” Eleanor sent the woman her best charming smile. “I’d like to add a few things to the standard order, please.”

 

“Of course, of course. Let’s get you fitted for the robes first.” Eleanor was led to one of the stools. “Just hop on, dear and we’ll get started.” Anette slipped a robe over Eleanor’s head before taking out a quill and notepad. “Now what extras did you want?”

 

She listed the additions her professor had suggested and specified her preferred skirts to be  high-waisted with either an A-line or pleated. Eleanor thought for a moment before adding another pair of protective gloves and some black mittens with the rest of her purchase.

 

The woman added the items to her list and then started pinning the robe to the correct length. After the robe, they went through the sizing of the rest of the clothing, which altogether took just over an hour.

 

“I’ll have them all ready to go by lunchtime at the latest. Now what are your initials so I can add them to all the clothes?”

 

“E.L.E ma’am.”

 

“Perfect. The total comes up to 65 galleons 3 sickles.” The woman calculated.

 

Eleanor dug into the coin bag and counted out the appropriate amount. Leaving Malkin’s, the professor guided her next to Wilkies & Bonte Travel Trunks. The store felt somewhat cramped with the amount of wares put on display. McGonagall pointed out the standard student trunks next to the door, but Eleanor refused, having been given enough money to invest in a better one as she’d be using it for seven years, at least.

 

“Good morning, I’m looking for a school trunk, but I was interested in the other models you had in addition to the standard?” She politely asked the attendant.

 

“Good morning. For school there are a few I can recommend. Follow me, please.” He said, leading her towards the trunks on the opposite wall. “Here we have a few serviceable options for school use. This one,” He said tapping a brown leather trunk the exact same shape and size as the wooden standard one. “Is the same otherwise as the standard but the leather makes it possible for us to add the charms for shrinking and featherweight and make them permanent without interfering with the durability charms on the frame of the trunk. It’s a bit more expensive than the standard, but only by five galleons.” He moved on to the one next to it. “And this one has permanent security spells anchored in the metal frame that replaces the wood from the standard option. And it has the same charms as the previous.” Then he pointed to one two shelves above. “That one has been made larger on the inside than outside, but nothing like the much more expensive wizard-space suitcases we offer. The inside dimensions are 5’10 x 3’ x 3’. You can get it both with and without the charms and spells.”

 

“Is there any organisation to them, or are they just empty spaces?” Eleanor questioned, while trying to decide if she needed the added space or not. The spells on the other hand were an easy choice, she’d definitely take them all.

 

“You can pay an extra 5 sickles and we can add dividers in whatever way you want, or with an extra galleon each drawers, the inside dimensions of which can be altered in the trunks which haven’t already been expanded.” The man said.

 

“Well that makes things easier then. I’d like the most expensive trunk of those not expanded from within, with some added dividers and drawers.” Eleanor said making her mind up.

 

After some back-and-forth Eleanor had a black leather trunk with metal fittings, three enlarged drawers, one for books, one for her ballet necessities and the last for her other school supplies and divided slots for her clothes, stationary, jewellery, shoes and toiletries. The cost was high compared to the six galleon standard, at 19 galleons 5 sickles, but she was sure she’d end up getting a lot out of the improvements. Embossing her initials on the top came free of charge.

 

Eleanor asked McGonagall if they could get her books second to last, before getting a pet but after everything else, so she’d have time to look through the store properly. Together they decided to get all the different miscellaneous things next. At the stationary store she wondered if notebooks could be used for lesson notes instead of the parchment, which is easy to lose. Her professor’s answer being that as long as she wrote her essays and assignments on parchment it would be fine. A cauldron, vials, scales and telescope were collected quickly after that.

 

They stopped in the Leaky Cauldron for lunch before picking up Eleanor’s uniform. Conversation centered mainly on Hogwarts as they ate their shepherd’s pies, until McGonagall started asking questions about Eleanor herself.

 

“You seemed to have had some idea that not everything about yourself was ordinary before Monday?” the professor questioned.

 

“Yes. There have been many incidents of accidental magic that I remember, especially when I was younger.” She left it at that, not elaborating now, just as she hadn’t the last time. She refused to be judged on the things she’d done, and she was sure the professor would condemn her, just like everyone else.

 

“Didn’t your parents ever realize that something had happened? Usually babies and toddlers manage to do quite the things with their accidental magic, as their magic is just beginning to develop and is quite volatile. That added to the fact how easily kids at that age are emotional and you have magical bursts quite often.”

 

Well, she didn’t have to explain what had happened at the orphanage, just mention it. “Anne and David adopted be when I was six, so maybe that explains why they never had any idea. I lived in an orphanage before then.”

 

Understanding and something else flashed on her professor’s face. “That does actually make sense. Do you know anything about your birth parents?”

 

“Not really, only the surname I had before Anne and David changed it. I was actually thinking about that earlier. As my surname is quite popular in the muggle world I have no way of finding out who they might be from the muggle records, but is there some test in this world that would show my parentage?” She asked leaning forward in interest.

 

Her professor frowned while thinking. “Yes, I think so. The goblins are allowed to perform it even if wizards or witches aren’t, as it’s blood magic. The ritual works consistently when the parents were magical themselves, and most of the time with muggles too. There are drawbacks if the parents are muggles, since the magic won’t know if the muggle is dead or alive, and the birthdate can be inaccurate. And it won’t show any extended family for muggle parents, unlike wizards and witches whose family lines can be filled on the test results from Gringotts’ own records.”

 

“Can I go do that today? Or will it take too long?” The wizarding world was beginning to look quite amazing from her perspective as all things she’d wanted to do so far had been possible. She actually had to remind herself to keep on guard, that not everything would work out even with magic added to the equation.

 

“Hmm, I believe we will have time to do that as I did warn your guardians that we might take the whole day.” McGonagall _had_ apparently picked up on Eleanor’s habit of never using the word parents. She had wondered if the professor would. “You just have to make sure not to spend too long browsing Flourish & Blotts.” The woman chuckled while Eleanor only smirked. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was your surname before it became Edwards? I could tell you if I know any wizards or witches with that name.”

 

“Right, it was Potter, but I…” Eleanor stopped short seeing the pure shock on her professor’s face and the way all her colour seemed to disappear leaving the woman pasty looking. McGonagall just stared at her for a moment. “Umm, so I guess there are Potters here as well?”

 

That seemed to snap the professor out of whatever it was. “Yes, well, there were more Potters before the war, with Fleamont and Charlus both having had sons, but now there’s only one person left still with the name. A boy your age.”

 

Something clenched in her chest at this information, but she just pushed aside the hope and  myriad of other emotions, refusing to think about them yet. “It’s more likely I’m from a muggle family then, rather than this near-extinct one.”

 

McGonagall still looked shaken though and kept staring at Eleanor’s face. “Yes, that is more likely. But. There is a chance, since you look remarkably like the parents of the Potter boy.”

 

“Please, I don’t want to talk about this before I know for sure.” Eleanor pleaded. She didn’t want false hope, hadn’t appreciated it in a long time, and thinking about possible brothers was the opposite of what she needed.

 

“Of course, I apologise.” Her professor finished her tea in silence and then suggested they look at what the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron looked like as they were already there, rather than wait for when they were leaving. The pub looked abandoned on the muggle side and as it was on Charing Cross road, Eleanor wasn’t confused as to why she’d never before noticed it, since there were other rundown storefronts as well. Not many, but enough for her to dismiss it, especially as David and Anne wouldn’t have seen it at all. And she’d only walked past it a handful of times.

 

First step, when they got back to the alley, was to pick up her clothes from Malkins and then they headed to _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC,_ which McGonagall had pointed out earlier in the day. The small shop was more cramped than any of the previous places, with shelves on every inch of available wall and those shelves then filled to bursting with long thin boxes. A wooden desk stood in the middle of the room, with some things on top of that as well, and a rickety stool was pushed in a corner. Eleanor had been feeling a faint something the whole day, more pronounced in the bank and whenever someone was doing some spell in her vicinity. But in here it was almost stifling in its intensity, and she was positive the sense of power and pressure was magic. It almost felt like a mixture of sparks and wind and she really couldn’t explain it any better. She wondered if she’d ever before felt it but not realized, as the feeling was after all nearly imperceptible. Her musings came to an abrupt end as the wandmaker suddenly appeared from somewhere.

 

“Good afternoon.” A man with a soft voice said, standing much too close for Eleanor’s comfort.

 

“Afternoon. Ollivander I presume?” Eleanor asked tightly.

 

The man was on the shorter side, with wispy white hair and wide, pale eyes. Eyes that were intently staring at her. “Yes. You are a curiosity Miss. What’s your name?”

 

Eleanor chanced a glance at McGonagall, but the woman had sat down on the stool and looked utterly unconcerned. Maybe Ollivander’s oddity had nothing to do with her then. However, that did not mean she was comfortable with the man. “Eleanor Edwards, sir.”

 

“Hmmm. As you say.” Ollivander seemed like he was just humoring her with that comment. “Well, we should get on with it then. Which is your wand arm?”

 

“I’m right-handed, sir.” I answered wondering if that was the correct answer.

 

“Hold out your arm. Yes that will do nicely.” He started measuring everything he could about Eleanor’s arm. “All our wands have a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms Edwards. I have found dragon heartstring, unicorn hair and phoenix tail-feathers to make the best wands, but of course every wandmaker has their personal beliefs.” At this point Ollivander started pulling boxes from the shelves putting them on his table, while the tape measure kept working around Eleanor’s body. “No two wands are ever the same and one will never get the results they do from their own wand from another’s.” Ollivander placed the last box in the pile he’d collected. “That’s fine.” With that suddenly the tape measure stopped it’s movement and fell on the floor coiling into a neat roll midair.

 

Ollivander handed her a nearly black wand and told her to wave it around. “Ash, unicorn hair, twelve inches. Quite rigid.” She’d barely lifted it when it was snatched away from her hand. The next one was offered and she took it, waved and a crack appeared down the middle of Ollivander’s desk. Eleanor quickly pushed the wand away. Belatedly she realized that just before the crack appeared, the faint feeling that came from each wand had appeared to be pushing away from her. Nothing she could be certain of, but she resolved to not wave anymore wands that caused that same feeling. It helped and by wand number nine she’d not broken anything else. But it was starting to get tiresome. By the fifteenth wand she actually _wanted_ to break something, but refrained.

 

Then a sleek wand, a mix of burgundy and chocolate was handed to her. Immediately the wand seemed to come alive and warmed her whole body, spreading tingles up starting from her fingers. A stream of white light poured out of the wand and wrapped around her, before disappearing.

 

Ollivander was clapping and beaming. “Cherry wood with dragon heartstring. 12 ½” reasonably springy. You’ve got one powerful wand there Ms Edwards.”

 

Eleanor couldn’t tear her gaze away from _her_ wand. The base of it was nearly flat with rounded edges and quite thick, but it quickly narrowed down. A decorative detail at the base of the wand was the only part not smoothed to perfection. “Thank you Mr Ollivander.” She said finally looking up. “Is there anything I should know about taking care of it?”

 

“Oh yes, you should polish it every now and then, to keep it in good shape. And not keep it just anywhere where you could break it, or harm yourself.” Ollivander nodded to himself.

 

Eleanor squeezed her wand tighter, eyes narrowed, as Ollivander spoke of it breaking. She would not allow that to ever happen.

 

“You can buy a wand care set from a store next to Flourish & Blotts, before we get your books.” McGonagall added. Eleanor startled as she had completely forgotten the professor was even in the room.

 

Eleanor paid her seven galleons and as they left the shop, kept twirling her wand, not wanting to put it away just yet. The alley was quite busy by then and she could spot some kids coming out of the sweets shop and others milling outside the broom and quidditch store. As she observed them she noticed her professor had been correct in that many of them wore clothes similar to hers. She could even spot a pair of jeans, even though that seemed to be quite an unpopular choice of material to use in any clothing.

 

The bookstore ate a big chunk of her money, and she ended up spending 34 galleons and 5 sickles. In addition to the school books, she picked out introductory books on the subjects she could choose as electives after third year, a book on wizengamot protocols and recent rulings, a book titled ‘the Blood War’ which seemed the most factual of all the texts on the last war and the politics of it, a comprehensive career guide, ‘the Ministry and its Departments’ and anything else she decided could help her learn more about the society she was entering.

 

As she was paying for her books, anxiety began taking root in her mind, causing her hands to shake a little. She only noticed it when handing over the coins to the cashier, after which she tightened her grip on her bag to stop the trembles from showing. McGonagall had left her to her own devices after checking that she had all the required texts, but thankfully finding her professor didn’t take much time at all. Eleanor saw the professor talking to someone by the doors as she began making her way back outside.

 

“Excuse me, professor. I’ve gotten everything I wanted.” I interrupted them.

 

“Ms Edwards, meet your astronomy professor Aurora Sinistra.” McGonagall said gesturing to the woman she’d been talking to. Sinistra was a beautiful black woman with her hair cropped short, and Eleanor guessed her to be either in her late twenties or early thirties. A young professor. Unlike McGonagall, Sinistra wore no robes, instead a long skirt and blouse. Eleanor was hard pressed to say what was the popular style of the moment as everyone seemed to be in different kinds. She swore she’d come back to the Alley before September first to buy some of the fashion magazines she’d noticed on a stand near the cashiers at a few places. Including the bookstore she’d just exited. Fashion was something she’d just began thinking about only in the last year on the encouragement of Anne, and she refused to look like a clown and have people laughing at her.

 

“Pleasure to meet you, professor.” Eleanor greeted her.

 

“You as well Ms Edwards. I’ll let you two get back to your schedule.” Sinistra said with a warm smile that caused dimples to appear. “See you later Minerva.” She waved and left.

 

“Are you ready to go get the test Ms Edwards?” McGonagall sounded worried.

 

“Yes, I am. I want to know.” But she truly wasn’t. How could she be, when only yesterday she still thought it would be impossible to ever find out who her parents were. ‘And I might not find out now either’, she mentally slapped herself. Though, any information she’d get could only help her.

 

Back at the bank McGonagall guided her to a different goblin than last time.

 

“Miss Eleanor Edwards requires a bloodline ritual, please.” McGonagall informed the goblin, who’d looked up the moment they neared him.

 

“Does Miss Edwards have the ten galleons to pay for it?” Again with the sneering. These creatures really didn’t like dealing with wizards.

 

“Yes, I do.” Eleanor said counting the coins and placing them on the counter.

 

“Very well then, follow me.” He grouched and jumped down from his chair and walked straight through the closest door, not waiting for them to follow.

 

Eleanor had to nearly jog, even though she was taller than the goblin, to catch up. They were led through a few similarly decorated corridors as the main hall, until they reached a door with the sign ‘blood tests for wizards, Glassbash’ on it, which the goblin opened. The room was quite bare, with only a desk and a single chair for the goblin to use. McGonagall conjured two chairs for them on the other side of the desk and they sat down. Eleanor perching only on the edge of her seat with her nerves keeping her tense.

 

The goblin took out two vials of different coloured liquids, a large bowl, a knife engraved with some markings and a roll of parchment. “You drink the blue potion, wait for exactly two minutes and then use the athame to cut your palm so that the blood falls in this bowl.”

 

After a nervous glance to Minerva, who inclined her head slightly to tell her to do as told, Eleanor uncorked the vial with the blue liquid and gulped it down. The goblin poured the other vial, a milky white in colour, in the bowl and rolled out the parchment as Eleanor was waiting for the two minutes to end.

 

“Can I ask, why two minutes?” She dared to ask the goblin.

 

He rolled his eyes but answered nonetheless. “One minute for the potion to reach your bloodstream, one for your blood to circulate.” Any more elaboration didn’t seem to be forthcoming. He then picked up the athame and handed it over. “Now, please.”

 

Eleanor hesitated only a second before pressing the blade against her left palm. She flinched slightly as it broke her skin, but didn’t stop before the cut went all the way across her palm. She turned her hand over and squeezed it tight over the bowl. After about another minute of it the goblin deemed it enough and allowed McGonagall to heal Eleanor’s hand. The goblin then submerged the parchment in the mixture, said some words in a weird language and suddenly all the liquid was being sucked in to the parchment. When the bowl was dry, he took the somehow still clean, but now iridescent parchment out of it and laid it on the desk, clearing off all the other things. A tap of the goblins finger was enough for the parchment to flash a light blue and suddenly fill with writing. Eleanor started reading it the second the goblin turned the paper around.

 

_Eleanor Lily Edwards (-Potter)_

_DoB: August 1st 1980_

 

_Father: James Fleamont Potter_

_DoB: March 27th 1960_

_Died: October 31st 1981_

_Mother: Lily Potter née Evans_

_DoB: January 30th 1960_

_Died: October 31st 1981_

_Sibling(s): Harry James Potter_

_DoB: July 31st 1980_

_Other close living relatives: Petunia Dursley née Evans (aunt - maternal)_

_DoB: June 6th 1958_

_Vernon Dursley (uncle - maternal - marriage)_

_DoB: February 17th 1952_

_Dudley Dursley (cousin - maternal)_

_DoB: June 23rd 1980_

 

_Godfather: Sirius Black (incarcerated)_

_DoB: November 3rd 1959_

_Godmother: Marlene McKinnon_

_DoB: May 11th 1960_

_Died: July 2nd 1981_

 

For a minute she could hardly breathe. She had honest to god relatives alive, one of whom was her twin brother! Eleanor had no idea what she was supposed to feel. Elation, anger, resentment and confusion all mixed into one swirling mass, ready push her under. She’d always had a bit of an issue with recognizing her emotions, and so preferred to not think about them. But her composure had already been wrecked by the time she woke up that day, and with the onslaught of thoughts and feelings and memories she just couldn’t keep it together anymore. It had been some years since she’d cried last and as tears escaped her tightly shut eyes, she was shocked enough by it to finally notice the hand squeezing her shoulder. She looked up following the arm to McGonagall whose eyes were shining with her own tears.

 

The professor offered her a watery smile before speaking. “I was thrown by the familiarity of your features when I came by your house on Monday, but couldn’t place the _who_ you reminded me of. The second you said that your name had been Potter I got it, because you have the same exact eyes as your mother. Otherwise I’d say there are some of your father’s family traits, like the hair but the rest is a nice mix.” McGonagall squeezed once more, before removing her arm form Eleanor’s shoulder.

 

“Could I write to you later to ask about them, since you seemed to have known them surprisingly well?” Eleanor asked, quickly wiping her eyes.

 

“Of course.” The smile the professor gave her was the most relaxed Eleanor had seen of McGonagall yet.

 

Eleanor pushed the emotions away, to figure out later, and turned back to the goblin who looked supremely bored. “Glassbash, I didn’t know my parents had been a witch and a wizard before just now. Do you know if there’s anything my parents might have left me or my brother?”

 

“I looked in the Potter-file while you were still reading. The money Mr and Mrs Potter had was divided into two vaults, one for you and one for your brother. The house your grandparents lived in, located in Wales, before their death also belongs to the two of you, while the house in Godric’s Hollow that was owned by your parents was partially destroyed in the Halloween attack and left in that state as a memorial of the war by the Ministry of Magic. They wrote in their wills that you and Mr Potter can begin using the properties after obtaining your O.W.L.s if you wish to do so, but they cannot be sold before you’re both adults. This would mean the Wales house, as the other one is still yours in paper but you’d have to sue the Ministry in order to use it again.” The goblin glanced at Eleanor. “Objects with any worth, like books and jewellery etc, at the Godric’s Hollow house were removed and are held in a vault as well, one that used to be the vault of your grandparents, which both you and your brother should have keys to, just like your money vaults. But as you didn’t even know you had a vault, I’m guessing you don’t have the keys?”

 

“No I don’t have them and have no idea who could, since my guardians are muggles. Can I get new keys?” Eleanor asked, confused as to where the keys could’ve ended up.

 

“36 galleons to replace both and modify the locking system of the doors so the old keys don’t work anymore. I can get them done in quarter of an hour. And yes I checked, there have been no visits to any of the three vaults since Mr and Mrs Potter’s deaths.”

 

Some of the tension in Eleanor’s body melted off with that pronouncement. “That’s good. I want the keys, please.”

 

As the goblin left to get the keys, Eleanor and McGonagall talked some more about Eleanor’s newly discovered family. McGonagall couldn’t tell her much about the earlier Potters, but knew quite a lot about the last three generations. The professor explained that the Potter family had ties to all over the world, for example Eleanor’s great-grandmother was from India, giving the last three generations of Potter’s some very difficult to manage black hair as it mixed with his great-grandfather’s curls, and a darker complexion, even if the shade had lightened somewhat by Eleanor, but not enough for Fossil-Frank not to complain. Her own hair wasn’t that horrible even if her curls sometimes refused to cooperate, and when she said so, McGonagall guessed that it must have been her mother’s genes easing the way added to the length of her hair. Apparently her father and grandfather both had had absolutely awful birds nests. Eleanor also found out the basics of what happened the Halloween the goblin had mentioned and her parents had died. She wanted to know more though, as the whole story had huge holes. Dark Lord hunting her family. Why? Hiding location betrayed by a friend. Why? Attack that killed both parents but couldn’t touch her brother. Again, why? She couldn’t make sense of it and refused to try before she had more information.

 

The last stop of the day before Eleanor could relax was the Eeylops Owl Emporium where she found a gorgeous female Peregrine falcon. Her back and wings were an interesting blueish black paired with a white underside, and beak and legs a mixture of yellow and black. McGonagall informed her that the falcon would be fine, as most witches and wizards took the owl on the supply list to mean any bird that could deliver mail. Eleanor decided to look for an Indian name for the falcon in the library at home to honor her real family.

 

After being apparated back home by McGonagall, Eleanor was told to write with any questions she might have and to send it with her falcon. Standing alone in the hall when the professor left, Eleanor was exhausted but still couldn’t help but smile to herself. She had work to do. First order of business: writing a letter to her twin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I'm traveling right now, and the B&B I was staying in had the worst Wifi so I couldn't upload the new chapter on time. But it's here now, so that's something I guess.


	4. The Beginning

**September 1st 1991**

 

Eleanor checked her bag to make sure she had everything for the fourth and last time. David and Anne would be dropping her off at King’s Cross Station quarter past nine, even though the train would leave much later, at eleven, as they both had to be at work by ten. She’d spent what was left of her summer reading, dancing and trying to convince Sarah and Katarina, especially Sarah, that her going away to boarding school wasn’t the end of the world. Eleanor had broken the news to her friends a week after her shopping trip to Diagon Alley, and as she’d anticipated, they didn’t much like it.  Nevertheless they congratulated her for making it to an exclusive, invitation only school. Katarina had also joked, that she didn’t even need to be moved up to a more advanced group for them not to see each other.

 

Eleanor also exchanged some letters with both professor McGonagall and Harry. With her professor she’d talked about her family, with occasional questions about Hogwarts. Among other things, Eleanor found out that the professor hadn’t known that the Potter’s had had more than one child, that they’d kept it all very quiet because of the threat the war posed. Lily's pregnancy was apparently impossible to conceal, but not that it ended with twins. Practically no one ever knew she existed, which she also noticed in one of the books she’d bought that talked about the war, since it mentioned Harry as an only child. Sending her brother the first letter had taken some time, as she’d only managed to gather enough courage by the evening of her brother’s birthday.

 

_ Dear Harry Potter, _

 

_ Happy Birthday. I hope it’s been a good one and you got good presents. There’s some candy in the box I sent you since I didn’t know what you might like otherwise. _

 

_ I have no idea how I should say this, and as I’ve already tried writing this letter about thirty times and frankly don’t have the energy anymore to lead into it, I’ll just put it here. I’m Eleanor Lily Edwards, your younger by some hours twin sister, who didn’t know she  _ _ had _ _ a brother until two weeks ago. Between then and now I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you. I was quite confused and apprehensive at first, but I am glad that I found out about you. _

 

_ As I know nothing of you, not even where you live or with who, and would hazard a guess you don’t know a thing about me either, I’ll explain some things. I live in London, with David and Anne Edwards, who adopted me from an orphanage when I was six and they changed my name from Potter to Edwards. No one seems to have known of my existence, except my godparents maybe, and for some reason I was placed in an orphanage alone rather than wherever you were. I’ve been dancing ballet since I was adopted and I absolutely love it, with reading being my other hobby. I have two close friends, Sarah O’Farrell and Katarina Lebedev, who I met through ballet and they’re both muggles. Before professor McGonagall’s visit and my letter, I didn’t know I was a witch. And I’m guessing we have similar features, but I have long curly black hair, green eyes and am 4’11”. That should be enough for you to recognize me when we finally meet. _

 

_ What about you? Where did you grow up and do you have any hobbies or such? Which house do you think you’ll be placed in? I’d like to get to know my brother. _

 

_ My falcon, Garima, who I’ll send this letter with is a peregrine, meaning she’ll need water, if you could just give her some, as she can tire herself out with flying as fast as she does. I’ll tell her to wait for your response as I don’t know if you have a bird of your own. I hope if you have a bird that it isn’t any small species as Garima usually hunts other birds. I don’t know if she’ll listen to you since she hasn’t so far obeyed anyone but me. _

 

_ Waiting eagerly to hear from you,  _

_ Eleanor Lily Edwards _

 

The answer arrived with Garima the next morning. Eleanor spent a few minutes just staring at the paper filled with a spiky scrawl unseeingly, and was poked out of her reverie by Garima, who got annoyed at her for not taking the letter off her foot.

 

_Dear Eleanor,_

 

_Happy Birthday to you too! Do we share the same birth date or is yours today? Thanks for the candy, I didn’t have anything to give you though, sorry for that._

 

_I can’t even begin to tell you how confused I am. Happier than probably ever before, but confused too. I found out_ **_yesterday_ ** _that I’m a wizard. ~~My~~  Our uncle didn’t want to give me my letter and Hagrid had to come give it to me. They’d thought at Hogwarts that I’d already know about magic, as our aunt knew all along. She’s mum’s sister, but they didn’t like each other much. But yeah, that was yesterday and then I got your letter last night and it all seemed way too much like a dream and I was half convinced I’d imagined it all as I woke up today, before noticing my owl staring at me, of course. Obviously, I live with our uncle and aunt._

 

_I too have black, curly hair and green eyes, but I also wear glasses. Our aunt doesn’t like the fact my hair never lies flat and keeps trying to cut it away. And I’m pretty sure you’re a bit taller than me. Which is all kinds of unfair. Not really, but I’d like to be taller. I don’t really have hobbies, but I do want to see you dance sometime. Are you going to keep practicing at Hogwarts? I don’t have any friends, because our stupid cousin always scares any other kids away from me, but I hope that’ll change now. I don’t know what house I’ll be in at school, since I’m a bit confused over them still. Did you know I’m famous for a stupid reason among wizards? I found it a bit odd and uncomfortable that so many people recognized me at Diagon Alley even though they’d never seen me before. You didn’t have that problem, did you, as you said people didn’t know our parents had you too?_

 

_ Can we sit together on the train to Hogwarts? _

 

_ Your Brother, _

_ Harry James Potter _

 

They’d continued sending letters back and forth nearly every day, giving both their birds plenty of exercise. Hedwig, Harry’s snowy owl, and Garima thankfully got along well and went hunting together more than once. Eleanor sent her letters to Harry on parchment written with a quill, to get more practice in and urged Harry to copy her so that his handwriting wouldn’t be completely hopeless at school. He _did_ listen to her and she was glad of it, because by their last letters before September 1st, Harry’s writing was already leagues better than the chicken scratch he’d tried to pass off as actual words in the beginning. He’d never win any awards for gorgeous calligraphy, but at least the teachers would now understand his writing. She’d truly enjoyed the letters to her twin, but their aunt and uncle sounded like horrible people. Eleanor swore she’d get her guardians to invite Harry to stay at their house for the summer. She would not leave family rotting in a place like what Privet Drive number four had been for Harry. How the boy could think any of it was acceptable Eleanor could not fathom. Just the thought of her twin being shoved in a closet reminded her of the orphanage, causing the familiar red haze of anger to descend over her.

 

Another thing that had made Eleanor furious was when Harry told her that Albus Dumbledore, their headmaster, had  _ deliberately  _ left Harry with their relatives while presumably dropping her off at the orphanage. Separating the two of them. She  _ hated  _ the man. Sure Harry hadn’t seemed to make the connection with who left him where he was and that she hadn’t been dropped off at the same time, and regarded the man in a positive light because of what Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, had said. Harry’s opinion would and could not diminish Eleanor’s loathing. She was pretty sure that she could never hate even Voldemort as much, because it was wartime when he killed her parents, and during war people die. Many not even during battle but hunted down because of their importance, which is what Eleanor had deduced was the reason their family went into hiding. Yes, Voldemort had torn her family apart, but it was Dumbledore who bore the brunt of her burning hate because he’d separated her from her  _ twin,  _ without any reason Eleanor would ever accept, and doomed them both to miserable childhoods. She would never be able to trust Dumbledore, the paragon of light her history books had painted him as (she’d nearly burnt the things with accidental magic when she read the praise. The scent of smoke startling her had saved the text).

 

“Eleanor! Are you ready to leave?” Anne’s voice sounded from downstairs.

 

“Yes! I’m coming!” Eleanor yelled from her room and tapped her trunk with her wand to shrink it. She threw the palm sized trunk in her handbag, slid her wand in the leather wrist holster she’d gotten at Diagon two days before, while buying the fashion magazines she’d wanted, and took hold of Garima’s cage. 

 

“So this is your new uniform?” Anne asked when Eleanor got to the kitchen, where David was still finishing his coffee. He’d always needed at least three cups before he could be considered a functional human being, while Anne preferred her single cup of tea.

 

Eleanor nodded. “Yes I thought it’d be better to already have it on, rather than change on the train.” She’d decided to wear one of her pleated skirts that day, with a short sleeved shirt and the jumper vest. The black tights she’d picked were thin and sheer, since the day was surprisingly warm, and her robe was folded on top of everything else in her trunk, so she’d be able to get it easily.

 

“It’s rather plain isn’t it? Just grey and black.” Anne said scrunching up her nose, like she’d sniffed something awful.

 

“Well it’s been made so that after we’ve been sorted these black stripes turn the colour of our house” She explained pointing to the edges of her sleeves and the bottom of the jumper. “And the robe that is worn on top of these has the house emblem and is lined with the house colour as well. And of course the ties the school provides have colour too.”

 

“Hmph. Explains why you didn’t choose any of your better jewellery to wear. You know that necklace we gave you for your birthday, the one with the emeralds, suits you.” Anne said, and glanced at David. “Honey, are we ready?”

 

“Yes, yes.” David mumbled and chugged the rest of his coffee. 

 

The drive to Kings Cross didn’t take much time at all and soon she was standing outside the barrier to platform 9 ¾ . She didn’t like the idea that she was expected to walk straight at a brick wall. Harry had told her to not wait for him on the station as he’d be getting there later than her, that he’d just find whatever compartment she chose.

 

“Do you want to see the platform?” She asked David. Unsurprisingly Anne had elected to wait in the car, rather than come say goodbye at the station.

 

David gave her a smile. “Why not? What do I need to do?”

 

“Just hold my hand and that should get us both through.” She said offering her hand. David had always been the more parent-like of her guardians. “And do not stop, just keep walking even though it seems incredibly foolish to do so.”

 

When David had taken hold, they picked up speed and nearly ran at the wall. Eleanor sincerely hoped she’d remembered McGonagall’s instructions correctly. When they burst through to the other side, Eleanor took in a deep breath. The scarlet Hogwarts Express stood on the platform and the engines were clearly not yet on, as the train had a steam engine and there was no smoke or steam anywhere on the platform. One other student was climbing on board, but otherwise the place was deserted.

 

“Well, the early bird catches the worm, doesn’t it.” David laughed. “But I need to go now, Anne will skin me alive if she’s late to work.”

 

Eleanor smirked. “You better run before she actually does that.”

 

David unexpectedly pulled her in a hug. “Be good, don’t forget to write, and remember to keep to the goals we’ve set for you. You obviously want this, and I want you to be able to do what you want, but I won’t stop Anne if she feels that you aren’t keeping up your progress in normal things.”

 

Meaning he did care, a little, enough to warn her, but not enough for it to actually matter. “Of course, David.”

 

David let go of her and walked back to the barrier. Eleanor stood there a moment, just appreciating the freedom she was about to have, before climbing on the train herself. She slid open a compartment door towards the front of the train, on the side with windows looking out to the platform. She lifted Garima on the luggage rack above her seat and took out her charms book. Before today she hadn’t dared use her wand, had just practiced incantations, wand movements and read up on theory. But now, as it was the first day, and she was in a place with other wizards, she wanted to try a few. She flipped pages to the first charm, Lumos, for light, even though she’d read the information over many times already and could quote it’s contents word for word.

 

“ _ Lumos” _

 

A brilliant white witchlight lit up the end of her wand and a grin broke out on her face. Her first piece of deliberate magic done knowing what it was. The book had said that by small modifications and some concentration the light could be made dimmer or brighter, different colours, and detached from the wand to hover on it’s own. After some more casting she noticed the strange feeling of almost electricity faintly appearing in her fingers every time a spell worked. Trying to feel anything else but the kind of prickling, was a bust. She continued casting the spell with the modifications until she could consistently produce all the different results, except the hovering ball of light, she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet, but decided to stop as more and more people started milling around the platform. She didn’t think that first years casting spells on the train would be allowed, and didn’t want anyone to notice the light show. Putting the charms book away she just sat there twirling her wand looking out at all the families. She’d gotten into a bit of a habit with the wand-twirling as she’d kept it close by the entire summer even if she couldn’t use it.

 

She glanced at her watch and noticed it was already quarter to eleven and Harry was supposed to already have been dropped off by their uncle. _Where the heck was that boy?_ They’d planned on meeting in a compartment closer to the front of train, so he should’ve already found her if he’d been on schedule. Searching the crowds, she tried to find someone who could match the description Harry had given of himself. Quite the difficult task, as the platform was packed with people, most of whom hadn’t come through the barrier, rather using the few floos dotted along the side of the platform. Her books had explained, that for safety reasons, there were wards in place around the platform which prevented apparating, similar to those around Hogwarts and most of Diagon Alley. 

 

The barrier drew her eyes as two identical looking boys with red hair burst through it laughing. They joined another older boy standing at the platform with the same hair, a more orange, fiery red than Sarah’s which was a much darker shade. She almost missed it, but the next boy to come through the barrier wasn’t a red-head, but instead had a mess of black curls and round wire-rimmed glasses. The hand-me-down clothes Harry had mentioned were quite obvious and did not look like they were supposed to be in use anymore, with how worn down they were. Eleanor instantly jumped up from her spot and ran outside, locking the compartment door on the way. She barreled straight into the unsuspecting Harry’s back. He’d been talking to the plump kindly-faced woman who’d come through the barrier as last of the redheads.

 

“Jamie-boy!” Eleanor beamed at her brother, releasing the crushing grip she’d had him in. They’d come up with nicknames for each other during the month of numerous letters.

 

“Hi, Ella.” He’d looked shell-shocked at first, but the expression was now melting to a smile as wide as Eleanor’s.

 

“You were right, you  _ are  _ a bit shorter than me.” She laughed.

 

Harry shoved her a little but his grin didn’t fade the slightest. “Funny.” he drawled.

 

“Now, you’re being rude, who were these lovely people you were just talking to?” Eleanor asked smirking. “I wasn’t aware you knew any magical families?”

 

“No, I didn’t, but Mrs Weasley helped me get on the platform as I had no idea how to do it. I was just thanking her.” Harry gestured to the woman, flushing a bit.

 

“Well, thank you very much Mrs Weasley for helping my idiot brother, here.” Eleanor laughed as she dodged the swat Harry had aimed at her. “I truly appreciate it.”

 

“It was no bother, dear.” The woman smiled. “You should start getting on the train, it will be leaving soon.”

 

“We, will. Thank you, again.” Harry said and started pushing his cart toward the train, while Eleanor grabbed Hedwig’s cage which had been placed on top of Harry’s trunk.

 

“Why isn’t your trunk shrunken? I’ve seen the vault I have and you should have just as many galleons as I do?” Eleanor asked.

 

“You can buy one that shrinks?” He looked at her, baffled.

 

“Oh, Jamie. You took the standard model then?” Eleanor sighed as they began lifting the heavy trunk on board.

 

“Shouldn’t I have?”

 

“Obviously not. My trunk can be shrunk without breaking the underage magic ban, AND it stays light enough to carry.” She said flicking a pointed glance at the trunk that required the two of them to move. “And while we’re on the subject, you’re getting new clothes from me before Christmas, because Anne will not be amused if you wear these hand-me-downs when you meet her.” They’d decided a few days ago that Harry’d better visit during the Christmas holidays, if Eleanor wanted any chance of success in trying to convince her guardians to take Harry in for the summer.

 

Harry just harrumphed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

 

“You’ll thank me later.” She winked at him nearly losing it at his affronted look. “All right, my things are here. And Garima obviously.” She pointed to the locked door.

 

Somehow they managed to lift Harry’s trunk on the overhead rack and put Hedwig’s cage next to Garima. There was a moment as they just stared at each other. They had the same eyes, same nose and similar face shapes, with the angles of Eleanor’s face just a tad more feminine. Enough like a funhouse mirror that it felt odd.

 

“Your glasses are broken.” Eleanor said quietly.

 

Harry pushed them higher up his nose and just nodded. Eleanor could guess who'd gotten them in the state they were in.

 

“Can I try fixing them? I’ve studied the spell, but not tried it yet.” Eleanor asked flicking her wand out. “On another thought, maybe I should try fixing some tear first, and not your only pair of glasses in case something goes wrong.”

 

She pointed her wand at the scuffed knee of her brother’s jeans. “ _ Reparo _ ”. The fabric began quickly stitching itself back together and was soon good as the rest of the jeans. Meaning they were horribly stretched and lumpy from too much use, but now without fraying.

 

“Wow, thanks Ella. You can try fixing the glasses if you want to?” Harry asked poking at where the rip had been, fascinated by it.

 

With another  _ reparo  _ the tape keeping Harry’s glasses together fell off revealing a gleaming piece of unbroken metal.

 

“How, exactly are you such a natural with this? We’ve had.. oh yes, zero lessons.” Harry asked.

 

It was Eleanor’s turn for the eyeroll. “You  _ know  _ I studied as much as I could during the summer.”

 

“Yes, but those were your first and second tries of that charm.” Harry argued.

 

“I guess, but I’d been upset hadn’t it worked, since I was quite precise with everything let me tell you.” She said folding her arms across her chest.

 

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled.

 

“Besides, you don’t know you couldn’t do it, since you haven’t even tried.” Eleanor said offering a small smile.

 

“I don’t know, I’ve not studied like you have.” He shrugged.

 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and as it opened, they could see one of the redheads from the platform was standing on the other side. Eleanor was shocked to see the train had began moving without her noticing, as she looked out the windows past the boy.

 

“Sorry, but everywhere else is getting full, can I sit here?” The boy explained.

 

That didn’t sound like it could be true, with the small number of students going to the school, but maybe they’d removed some of the carriages as student numbers fell. Eleanor glanced at Harry who was clearly eager to make new friends and her decision was made for her. She might not particularly want to get to know that many people, but she wouldn’t deny that from her brother.

 

“Sure, come in.” She said, her expression falsely cheery and waived him in. “Do you need help with your trunk?”

 

“Yeah, please. My brothers took it in their compartment while I looked for a place to sit.” He smiled gratefully.

 

“Jamie, can you help him?” She widened her eyes as if realizing something. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m Eleanor Edwards and this is my twin Harry Potter.” Eleanor really just wanted to find out if this kid would be enamoured with Harry’s fame, and was not at all sorry for deciding when and how to introduce themselves.

 

In her opinion, the boy’s eyes looked quite comical, bugging out as they were with him staring at Harry. But she still glared at him as Harry began to look uncomfortable. “Blimey! Are you really, The Harry Potter?”

 

Her glare turned up a notch and she cleared her throat loudly before Harry could do anything but open his mouth to answer. The redhead turned his gaze to Eleanor and clearly snapped out of his state at her glare, paling a little causing his freckles to stand out more. “The polite thing would be to introduce yourself in turn, wouldn’t it?” She paid no mind to the look Harry was giving her. He was probably just surprised at the change in how she acted, but he’d get used to it. She just could not allow herself to relax unless she was with people she trusted, and at the moment that was a list with the grand total of three names.

 

“Um, sorry. I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m Ron Weasley.” Weasley said shuffling on his feet nervously and glancing down.

 

At Harry’s pleading face, Eleanor chose to give the boy a break. They were all eleven after all and Weasley had just met a celebrity. She allowed her glare to melt into a smirk. “Pleased to meet you, Weasley.” The boy looked up shocked. “Now, my brother will help you get your trunk moved here, and yes he is the famous Potter. He’ll tell you more about it if he wants.”

 

Harry got up to follow Weasley, giving her a quick grateful grin before leaving. Just before the door closed she heard Weasley saying: “Your sister’s a little scary.” Eleanor just grinned to herself and dug ‘Witch Weekly’ out of her bag. The articles were mostly rubbish gossip, but the fashion pages were actually quite entertaining. She was a few pages in when the boys nearly fell in the compartment with the trunk, cracking up every two seconds. Clearly, carrying a trunk was a hilarious endeavor. They managed to place the trunk next to Harry’s and both settled on the bench across from Eleanor. It took three minutes, with all their giggling.

 

“What’s so funny boys?” Eleanor asked from behind her magazine. She was looking at a beautiful mint green dress, which was shown from all sides,  _ and  _ while spinning. All fashion magazines should have these types of pictures, honestly, it was incredibly useful to know what the entire garment looked like.

 

“Lee, he had one of Zonko’s colour-switching paints open in his hand..” more laughter paused Weasley’s story “he, he, got splashed so well.” And he cracked up again.

 

Eleanor looked at Harry in question. “Ron’s brothers' friend, Lee got splashed with the paint, when we took the trunk down and accidentally knocked the bottle over. His face, hands, everything was covered.”

 

Weasley had recovered enough to speak again. “And the best part is, that it won’t come off until after eight hours! Eight! It was flashing between pink and green when we ran out.”

 

Eleanor smirked and mock clapped. “Good job boys. Getting into mischief and we’re not even at the school yet. Tut-tut.”

 

She only managed to set their laughter off again, and returned back to her magazine.

 

\---

 

It was about twenty past twelve when their compartment door was slid open by a smiling woman. 

 

“Anything off the trolley dears?”

 

Harry jumped up instantly to look at what the trolley offered, but Eleanor could hear Ron mumbling about sandwiches while turning red as his hair. Looking at his well-kept but scruffy clothes, Eleanor thought that maybe their family was low in funds, and couldn’t afford to give an allowance to their kids. She shook her head, if he was embarrassed by it he could do something about it at school, like doing people’s essays for them or something, no need to wallow in self-pity. Following Harry out into the corridor she tried to decide what she wanted. Her guardians rarely let her eat sweets, but when they did, cherry flavored things and chocolate were her favorites. Nothing in the trolley was recognizable to her, no Maltesers or Chupa Chups, but she did see something called chocolate frogs, and spotted red lollipops with cherries on the wrapping. 

 

“I’d like five chocolate frogs and twenty cherry lollipops, please. Do you sell any drinks?” Eleanor asked the woman. She had to buy enough of the lollipops to last until the holidays, since it was unlikely she’d find more candy while at Hogwarts. Anne wouldn’t ever agree to send sweets to her, probably saying a dancer shouldn't eat unhealthy things or that candy destroys your teeth, if Eleanor asked.

 

“Just pumpkin juice bottles, dear.”

 

Eleanor frowned at that, since it would likely be very sweet as well. But she really was thirsty. “One bottle with the candies then please.”

 

“Sure thing, sweetie. It’ll be 1 sickle 20 knuts.”

 

Paying, and taking her purchases back to the compartment Eleanor nearly lost her footing as she heard Harry asking to buy some of everything. _There were so many different things offered!_ First she was amused, but then a dark idea formed making her angry, what if their relatives had again failed to give Harry enough food. Eleanor had made Harry tell her everything the monsters had done to him, after he’d referenced a cupboard he used to sleep in. Eleanor hated the Dursleys just as much as she despised Dumbledore.

 

“Hungry, are you?” Weasley asked.

 

Harry had already ripped into a pumpkin pasty and mumbled his answer. “Starving.”

 

Harry and Ron ended up swapping some of their snacks, as Harry shared all his sweets with Weasley and Harry got the sandwiches. Eleanor asked to get one of the sandwiches too, as she was sure she’d end up getting sick if she had nothing savory for hours. Bringing her own snacks would clearly be better than relying on the things on sale. When the boys enthused about the Albus Dumbledore chocolate frog card, she had to forcibly relax her muscles in order to not give away her attitude towards the man. It was clear to her by then, that most would not share her opinion.

 

Eleanor again zoned out the boys’ chatter until a knock on the door caused her to look up from a hair product advert. She got up to open the door and came face to face with a blond, round-faced boy. Who looked about a second away from bursting into tears.

 

“Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” He asked.

 

“No, I’m sorry but I haven’t. Boys have you seen one?” Eleanor asked over her shoulder.

 

With them both answering in the negative, she looked back to the blond.

 

“I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” He wailed.

 

“Hey, he’ll turn up. Have you asked any upper year if they know of a spell to find it?” Eleanor tried. She really didn’t like being forced to help emotional strangers. Or pretty much any type of strangers, if she was honest with herself.

 

The boy brightened up immediately. “I haven’t. Thanks for the suggestion!” He yelled and ran off.

 

Eleanor closed the door again, breathed in deep, and hoped fervently for no more interruptions. She’d had to be pleasant for far too long already, and she still had the whole sorting and feast debacle to look forward to. If all the kids her age at Hogwarts were this frustrating to deal with, she’d just hole up in the school library and wait for them to become less annoying. She’d gotten used to people more mature in her high-achieving school and then ballet, except for Sarah, who is a cute ball of energy. But then, Sarah is her cute ball of energy and could never annoy her. It’s not that Eleanor hated joking around, as evidenced by her teasing of Harry, but she got more enjoyment out of sarcasm and intelligent quips, rather than someone getting prank-paint on themselves. And showing her honest amusement to anyone other than those she trusted didn’t sound like a good idea.

 

Only two pages of her magazine later the door opened, again. Eleanor looked up, praying silently for patience.

 

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one?” A girl with a head of brown, frizzy, tightly coiled curls asked in a bossy tone.

 

“You, Miss, need a lesson in manners.” Eleanor said under her breath, right as Weasley answered that they’d already been asked and no they hadn’t seen it. But the girl seemed to hear neither of them.

 

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it then.” She ordered and sat down next to Eleanor.

 

Eleanor hadn’t even noticed that Weasley had his wand out, she’d been much too focused on ignoring everything outside the newest style of women’s robes. She was on the second magazine she’d picked up, ‘Spella Weekly’.

 

Weasley looked remarkably like a deer in the headlights might. “Er, alright.” He cleared his throat. “ _ sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” _

 

Just managing to stifle her laughter as absolutely nothing happened, Eleanor turned to the girl to ask why she went around demanding things from others, but didn’t get the chance.

 

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” the girl asked Weasley. “Well, it’s not very good is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course,” Eleanor couldn’t help but think, that it hadn’t been the smartest choice to say that, not knowing who the people were she was talking to. With her barging in compartments, all of them could’ve been pure-bloods not fond of muggle-borns for all she knew. But Eleanor had seen her type quite often, the smart ones, whose whole identity was built on that singular fact and they just couldn’t stop spewing unnecessary information. “I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard. I’ve learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

 

“Eleanor Edwards” she said coolly directing Granger’s attention to her. “It’s a pleasure.” Was delivered with a distinctly mocking tone. “My companions are Ron Weasley and my brother, Harry Potter.”

 

Granger turned her head to stare at Harry so fast, Eleanor was half convinced the girl should be experiencing whiplash. “Are you really? I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and..”

 

Eleanor interrupted Granger while looking at her like she was stupid. “You know all about him, hmm? I read some additional literature during the summer too. Tell me, did any of your books mention the fourth member of the Potter family? Any of them?”

 

Poor girl looked confused, shaking her head. “No, but there was no fourth member?”

 

Eleanor’s expression turned condescending. “So you didn’t just hear me introducing myself as his sister, his twin?”

 

Granger’s eyes had narrowed in anger. “But the books said..”

 

“And here’s some news for you, books can be wrong. They’ve all been written by people, and people are often wrong. History books especially are quite often inaccurate. A smart girl such as yourself should have heard the phrase ‘history is written by the victors’? Books are littered with false ‘facts’. It would also be a good idea to refrain from telling people you have never met before, that you know _everything about them._ ” Eleanor wanted dearly to finish by patting Granger’s shoulder, but that might be crossing a line into the making enemies territory.

 

The tension in the air was palpable as Granger refused to answer and kept her narrowed eyes on Eleanor, who just relaxed against the window with the same smile on her face. Weasley, showing an unexpected amount of situational awareness, opened his mouth. “What houses do you think you’ll be in?”

 

Eleanor noticed from the corner of her eye Harry looking at Ron gratefully. 

 

“I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds like the best house, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad.” Granger answered immediately, moving on from the argument.

 

“All my brothers are Gryffindor and my parents were too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw  _ would  _ be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” Weasley said with a shudder.

 

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” Eleanor said looking at Weasley.

 

“Well, well, they’re bad ain’t they? And you-know-who himself was one! They all end up Dark!” Weasley looked dumbfounded, like he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t automatically think so.

 

“You can’t possibly be serious Weasley.” Eleanor said, eyes sparkling with mirth. “You can’t seriously believe that a quarter of the wizarding world’s population, the quarter sorted Slytherin, is evil? That’s honestly the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all month.” She almost started giggling. “Ambition, cunning and pride do not make you a bad person, just like courage, chivalry and daring won’t make you good. Come on now.” Seeing Weasley’s blank face Eleanor just sighed and reached into her trunk for her robe. “I’ll go by the loo to put on my robe and fix my hair, you boys can change into your uniforms here.” She glanced at Granger, who was looking at her speculatively and suggested they both leave.

 

Granger stopped her in the corridor after the compartment door closed behind them, before Eleanor could disappear in to the loos. “I apologize for assuming to know better about your family, I’ve been quite excited and got carried away with it.”

 

“I believe most of us first years are somewhat out of sorts today, so there’s no harm done.” Eleanor smiled, not wanting this girl to resent her since she’d already insulted her, but finding it hard to be convincing. Maybe she could hide out in a stall until they reached the school. Thankfully Granger seemed to buy it and finally left her alone. Walking past the sinks, Eleanor stepped in one of the stalls, locked the door, and slumped down on the toilet. She’d just close her eyes for a second.

 

* * *

 

Eleanor only came back to their compartment maybe ten minutes before the train arrived, Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, had cleared out about fifteen minutes earlier. Harry really hadn’t liked the blond, pointy boy’s attitude, with him looking down his nose at Ron, when Ron was ten times nicer a person than Malfoy. When he told about Malfoy to Eleanor, she got that smirk on her face like she was laughing at something only she got. It was a bit irritating, some of which was because he  _ hadn’t  _ understood, but Harry really did enjoy her company. Even when he’d always hoped his parents were alive and would come and take him away, it had never occurred to him that he might have a sibling. Eleanor would never be the little-sister type he’d seen at school though. But maybe that was a good thing, as since they were twins they’d take care of each other.

 

A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

 

Harry’s stomach was tying itself to knots, and Ron looked somewhat pale. Glancing at Eleanor, she seemed perfectly at ease, but Harry didn’t know if that was true, she’d after all acted completely different with just him, before Ron had joined them. He crammed the last of his sweets in his pockets, Ron doing the same. Eleanor had placed hers in the fancy bag she had. He’d sometimes noticed aunt Petunia fawning over the same one in a magazine, but she hadn’t been able to afford it, unlike his sister. The three of them joined the crowd filling the corridor when the train began slowing down. People began pushing their way outside, and after hopping on the dark platform, he nearly lost sight of Ron and Eleanor. The night air was cold, and he shivered when a gust of wind blew along the platform. 

 

A familiar voice suddenly shouted from where a light was moving above all the student’s heads. “Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!” Harry grabbed Eleanor’s hand and dragged her to Hagrid. “All righ’ there, Harry?”

 

Harry nodded to the large man and mouthed the groundskeepers name to Eleanor, who’d turned to him hearing his name spoken.

 

“C’mon, follow me. Any more firs’-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’-years follow me!”

 

The path Hagrid led them on was steep and narrow. And so dark, it was nearly impossible to see anything. Harry had let go of Eleanor the moment they got on the path, because walking like that would’ve been too difficult, they were slipping and sliding as it was without adding one of them pulling the other off balance to their troubles. 

 

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called out “jus, round this bend ‘ere.”

 

There was a loud intake of breath from everyone, as the castle came to view. They were standing at the edge of a huge lake. There were some small waves, but as the wind was so light, they were more like ripples. On the opposite shore, almost as if it was growing from the mountain, stood Hogwarts, with it’s lit up windows making it shine. A starry sky as a backdrop, made it the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen.

 

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid yelled, pointing to a small fleet of wooden boats along the shore. Harry, Ron and Eleanor climbed in one, with Harry jealous of the grace her sister moved with. He supposed her dancing ballet would help with that. Eleanor had banned him from calling her a ballerina in one of her letters, something about her probably never achieving that status, he couldn’t quite remember. Not that he was as clumsy as Ron, who almost fell over while trying to get in. A girl with blond curls joined them in their boat.

 

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had one of the boats to himself. “Right then, FORWARD!”

 

All the boats moved as one, jostling some people around, who hadn’t been sitting properly yet. Eleanor and the other girl sat at the front, and Harry could hear her quietly asking the blond her name. Lavender Brown, Harry was pretty sure the girl answered. Everyone else seemed silent as they slowly advanced toward the mountain and a curtain of ivy, hanging off a cliff.

 

“Heads down!” Hagrid yelled as they reached it. Through the ivy was a small, underground harbour, where they clambered off. A long passageway led them up to the grass of the school grounds, and after a flight of stone steps they were standing in one big group outside the huge front doors of the school.

 

Hagrid brought his fist to the wood, and knocked three times, the sound very loud in the silent evening. The doors swung open immediately and a tall, black-haired witch stood there with a severe expression. She matched Eleanor’s description of McGonagall perfectly, and Harry was sure it was the professor, but he found it hard to believe that this was the woman who’d comforted Eleanor after she found out who her family is. Professor McGonagall didn’t look like someone to cross, nor capable of the softness Eleanor had written him of. Mostly the sternness reminded him of aunt Petunia. But then again, Eleanor herself was more reserved than Harry.

 

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid said.

 

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” She said pulling the doors wide open. 

 

Stepping inside he was certain the Entrance Hall was big enough to fit the entire Dursley home and more besides as the ceiling was too high and dark to make out. From there they were led to a small chamber off the Hall, past a door from behind which the drone of the other students could be heard. Harry grabbed Eleanor’s hand again, squeezing it tightly. She gave him a soft smile, before her face went back to boredom and she began looking around. It was weird how easily she could fake her expression. The only reason he could even tell she was faking it, was the slightest trembling of her fingers he could feel. It strangely comforted him that even Eleanor was nervous about the sorting. Not that it was enough to erase his  _own_ nerves.

 

“Welcome to Hogwarts.The start-of-term-banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses, The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.” Harry again glanced at Eleanor; he’d have his family in Hogwarts with him regardless of what his housemates were like. He turned back to the professor, but with less anxiety over the situation than before. “You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your thriumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered on a few students before she turned around and strode out of the room her parting comment being to wait quietly.

 

Harry desperately tried to flatten his hair, before Eleanor’s hands stopped him. “No, no you’re doing it all wrong. You shouldn’t even try to lay your hair flat, because it won’t, it’s better to just try and smooth the curls into something that looks intentional.” She made a small stream of water appear from her wand and after getting some of it in her hands, did something to his hair. “There, much better. Just twist the curls around your fingers or run your fingers lightly through and they’ll look artistic.” She smirked again. “Or like something eleven year-olds shouldn’t even know about. Water won’t hold it for long, one of these days you’ll have to buy a cream for the purpose, during next summer the latest. You do not want to hear Fossil-Frank’s rants.”

 

Harry chose to not even try and understand everything she meant and turned to Ron to ask what the sorting might be like. Clearly Eleanor thought their ideas hilarious, as she had to look away when Ron said it might be painful. Pure amusement had been dancing in her eyes and her lips had twitched. That calmed Harry, since Eleanor was the reasonable one of the two of them and if she thought the sorting wouldn’t hurt, it most likely wouldn’t.

 

Suddenly Harry heard some of the others scream, causing him to jump about a mile in the air, and turn around. Several translucent ghosts were streaming into the room through the back wall.

 

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance…”

 

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost… I say what are you all doing here?”

 

Eleanor snickered softly as no one answered.

 

“New students!” said the Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be sorted, I suppose?”

 

A few people nodded, but still no one said a word.

 

“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house you know.” the Friar exclaimed.

 

“Move along now.” McGonagall’s voice ordered sharply.”The Sorting Ceremony is about to start.” She’d apparently returned while everyone was distracted.

 

After the ghosts floated away McGonagall began ordering them in a line to go to the Great Hall. Harry fell in between Eleanor and Ron and they followed the professor through a set of double doors.

 

Even the view of the castle paled in comparison to the Great Hall. There were hundreds, or maybe thousands of candles hanging in midair, above five long tables, four that ran the length of the Hall, and one for the teachers at the top on a bit of a platform. McGonagall led their line up next to the teachers so that they were facing the rest of the school. The hundreds of faces looking up at them caused his worry to return, and he looked up to the ceiling in order to take his mind off it. Eleanor had gushed about in a letter, during the summer and he had to admit his sister had been right to be fascinated by it. It reflected the beautiful starry sky well enough it looked like there was no ceiling, and the room just opened up to the heavens. 

 

A four-legged stool with a frayed old wizard’s hat on it was placed in front of them and Harry could not figure out what they might be required to do. The idea of pulling a rabbit out of it came to mind, and he was sure Eleanor would never let him live it down if she found out about that idea.

 

Then a rip opened near the brim and the hat began to sing.

 

_ “Oh you may not think I'm pretty, _ __   
_ But don't judge on what you see, _ __   
_ I'll eat myself if you can find _ __   
_ A smarter hat than me. _ __   
_ You can keep your bowlers black, _ __   
_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _ __   
_ For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _ __   
_ And I can cap them all. _ __   
_ There's nothing hidden in your head _ __   
_ The Sorting Hat can't see, _ __   
_ So try me on and I will tell you _ __   
_ Where you ought to be. _ __   
_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _ __   
_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _ __   
_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _ __   
_ Set Gryffindors apart; _ __   
_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _ __   
_ Where they are just and loyal, _ __   
_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _ __   
_ And unafraid of toil; _ __   
_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _ __   
_ if you've a ready mind, _ __   
_ Where those of wit and learning, _ __   
_ Will always find their kind; _ __   
_ Or perhaps in Slytherin _ __   
_ You'll make your real friends, _ __   
_ Those cunning folks use any means _ __   
_ To achieve their ends. _ __   
_ So put me on! Don't be afraid! _ __   
_ And don't get in a flap! _ __   
_ You're in safe hands (though I have none) _ _   
_ __ For I'm a Thinking Cap!”

 

The Hall burst into applause, while Harry let out a relieved sigh that he would only have to try the hat on. Ron whispered to him about wanting to kill Fred as he’d said they’d have to wrestle a troll, and Harry could finally sympathize with Eleanor because he didn’t think wrestling a troll sounded like something that would ever be expected of first years.

 

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” McGonagall said.

 

He felt Eleanor’s hand subtly slipping into his and squeezing softly, before letting go. Turning to look at her, he could make out her mouthing ‘Good luck’ to him. He returned a ‘You too’, before McGonagall called the first name, Hannah Abbott, who went into Hufflepuff. Only six names later “Edwards, Eleanor” was called and Harry watched her confident walk to the stool. A few seconds passed and then the hat yelled “SLYTHERIN!”. Harry watched her go with just a bit of sadness and a hardening resolve. Now it would just fall on him to make sure the other snakes would be decent. He knew Eleanor was great, but he also trusted Ron and Hagrid when they said most Slytherins were bad. Ron was apparently shocked by Eleanor’s sorting, as he had turned to Harry with an alarmed look on his face. Harry just shook his head and focused back to the names being called.

 

After Sally-Anne Perks had been pronounced a Gryffindor, McGonagall called his name. He heard the whispers immediately. ‘The Harry Potter’ ‘Where?’ ‘Look at him!’ and others he didn’t care to hear and quickly pulled the hat over his head. He was grateful for the size of it as it fell over his eyes.

 

“Hmm.” A voice in his head startled him. “Much more difficult than your twin. But not as much as you could have been, are you? Meeting her has tempered some of your qualities, while bringing out others. You might have even made it in Slytherin, yes. Still might suit it actually. But that courage and righteousness make you firmly a GRYFFINDOR!” The hat yelled out the last word.

 

Getting up on unsteady feet, he placed the hat back on the stool and began walking to the madly cheering Gryffindor table. The Weasley twins were chanting ‘We got Potter, we got Potter!’ while the rest of the table was either clapping, whistling or yelling. He walked to where some of the other first years were sitting, but made sure he had the Slytherin table in his sights. Looking to the other side of the Hall he could see Eleanor smiling at him, and he smiled back with a wave.


	5. Chapter 5

**September 1st 1991**

 

Harry was drawn into conversation immediately by the other Gryffindors, even though the sorting was still going. Eleanor’s own reception had been much colder, with no one so far saying a single word to her. She could guess some of it was because they couldn’t determine anything about her just by hearing her name, which usually screams insignificance to those with their families accomplishments behind them. It was what she was expecting, after reading of the house’s reputation. A reputation, which was proving to be correct, in that Eleanor recalled many of the surnames called out by professor McGonagall from her summer reading: Bulstrode, Greengrass, Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson all powerful noble families, who traditionally sorted Slytherin. They’d deduce that she was either a half-blood from a family no one cares a whit about, or a muggleborn. Most would probably correctly guess half-blood, just not her real surname. She’d have to work her ass off to be accepted in the house she was in, but that’s exactly what she’d done all her life, she wasn’t worried. And all the other aspects of the house were too attractive not to want to be sorted in it. For example, if she did manage to garner her housemates approval, she’d have some seriously influential allies going forward. She knew from personal experience, that life without people to help you out of tight spots could get awful.

 

There were nine of them already at the end of the table, left open for the new first years, but no one had spoken much, which Eleanor appreciated. At least these kids seemed to have similar manners to the ones Anne had drilled into her the moment she was adopted. Except maybe the two brutish looking boys sitting on either side the Malfoy heir. Their clothes stuck out as noticeably wrinkly, next to the rest of them, with stains probably from eating on the train and one of them kept picking at their nose. Eleanor turned away disgusted with the behaviour just as the last student to be sorted, Blaise Zabini, was declared a Slytherin. He sauntered to the table, with all the arrogance an eleven year old could possibly have, and sat down next to Nott.

 

The professor’s table drew Eleanor’s attention as Albus Dumbledore stood up from his seat. She’d almost go as far as to call it a throne, as the chair was the most ostentatious golden thing she’d ever seen, that’s if she didn’t count the robes the man was wearing with their twinkling star-pattern. _Maybe_ , she was a little more annoyed than strictly necessary, but in all honesty, since it was the first time she’d seen the old man after finding out that everything was his fault, she was proud of her control. She was certain she would have caused some kind of burst of accidental magic normally. Her hands had shook, for god’s sake, just from the anger alone.

 

“Welcome!” Dumbledore said from his podium beaming around at all the students. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

 

He sat back down to clapping and cheers, the loudness of which depended on the house. Eleanor could see all the Slytherins clapping politely, while most of Gryffindor seemed to have lost their minds, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw somewhere in between the two in their reactions. The ruckus quickly died down as the feast appeared on the tables, groaning under the sudden weight. The multitude of different dishes surprised her, but Eleanor supposed the regular meals wouldn’t be this extravagant. Spotting some delicious looking roasted chicken, she piled that and small portions of some other things on her plate, before focusing on the discussions around her. She was a firm believer in that you could learn most about people when they didn’t notice you listening, and so she kept her posture relaxed and eyes cast down. Looking as uninteresting as possible. Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass were seated on her left, talking to each other about Anthony Goldstein who’d been sorted in Ravenclaw. They must have been friends already before Hogwarts, guessing by the way they spoke. Runcorn was on the other side of the table, sitting quietly next to Bulstrode, whose sole focus seemed to be eating as fast as possible. On Eleanor’s right Zabini and Nott sat at the end of the table, only speaking with one another, and Malfoy’s court sat next to them. And it was clearly _Malfoy’s_ court, with Crabbe and Goyle not answering Malfoy in more than monosyllabic grunts as he prattled on, and Parkinson sitting across him, apparently trying to fall into all of the food with how far she was leaning forward. By the time dessert was served, Eleanor had come to a few more conclusions of her new housemates: Parkinson and Greengrass had some history with the amount of dirty looks directed at the other, Nott knew Malfoy but didn’t like him much, even though his acting to prove otherwise was entertaining to see, and the upper years wanted nothing to do with the lower years. She didn’t know which people belonged in which year, but clearly not many thought first or second years had any importance as even though the rest of the house mingled, they were all excluded. She was dying to see if the same dynamic carried on to the common room. It would guarantee two simple enough years of school, if that was the case.

 

Finally the desserts disappeared and Dumbledore got to his feet again, with the Hall falling silent instantly. “Ahem, just a few more words now we are all fed and watered.” The man’s words irritated Eleanor to no end. Why did he have to choose the words of an absolute fool, when everyone was well aware of the power the man had? “I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” The man’s madly twinkling eyes flashed over to the Gryffindor table, but the tone the headmaster was using was much more amused than reprimanding. Practically inviting people to break the rules. _Well then._ A wildly different approach to being headmaster, than what Eleanor was used to. “I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

 

 _What?!_ No way could a school headmaster say that in the muggle world and not have everyone hounding them to remove the danger or close the school. What on earth could be going on? She heard some of her housemates murmurs and saw the looks thrown Dumbledore’s way. Thank gods the others were concerned by the warning as well.

 

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore continued and giving his wand a flick, made a golden ribbon form the words for the song in midair. The most ridiculous song Eleanor had ever heard. “Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!”

 

The cacophony was horrible as most students began singing about 'hoggy, warty, Hogwarts'. The Weasley twins were the last to finish their funeral march, after which Dumbledore told them to trot off.

 

“Slytherin first-years, follow me, please.” A tall brunette coming towards them called out. They all followed her and a boy with a buzz cut out of the Great Hall and towards the dungeons. When they were far enough away from the rest of the school she turned around to speak to them. “I’m Gemma Farley, one of your sixth year prefects, and this is Michael Zeller, the other sixth year prefect. Unlike the other houses, us Slytherins have the prefect system set up in such a way that the fifth- and seventh-years don’t have to worry about you firsties on top their other duties _and_ exams.”

 

“If you have any questions during the year, come first to us, then the other prefects and our head of house, Professor Snape, only if none of the prefects can help you.” Zeller added in a somewhat raspy voice.

 

“Yes. We’ll go through the house rules when we get to the common room, but the most important thing is unity in the house. Our internal squabbles do not concern the other houses, and we don’t allow our own to be seen struggling. So especially in your first year, do take advantage of the fact that you can get help much easier than in later years.” Farley said. Eleanor assumed that Farley meant that the help would never be free, but the first-years wouldn’t be asked any outrageous things to get it. “Zeller and I will show you to your classes whenever you have a new one that you haven’t seen the location of. The castle can be frustrating to navigate, but you are expected to be on time in lessons, so do remember to always leave early enough.” The route they’d walked so far had had enough crisscrossing corridors to confuse Eleanor, so she was quite grateful they’d be guided around for the first days. They made one last turn and stopped in front of a stretch of blank wall, the exact same as every wall before it. Dark stone that stays no doubt cold to the touch no matter the time of year. “This is the entrance to our common room. It opens with a password, which will be changed every other week on Saturday at nine am. The next one will be posted on our notice board on Fridays.” Farley explained and then pointed up to a carved snake that was somewhat hidden by the rough texture of the ceiling. “You can check that you’re in the right spot by that snake carving.” It was a clever idea, not many would think to look for a clue above their heads.

 

“Never, ever, reveal the location of our common room to the other houses.” Zeller commented before speaking the password, _bezoar_. “The seventh year prefect, Adyn Hunter, who picked the password, loves potions.” He commented with some amusement in his tone.

 

The wall folded in on itself in a similar way to the Diagon Alley entrance, revealing a short tunnel which led to the common room. Eleanor loved it immediately. It was a large room, with a high ceiling from which chandeliers hung. On the wall across from the doorway were four windows looking out into the lake. They were pitch-black at the moment, but she was certain they’d be gorgeous during the day. Three black marble fireplaces kept the room toasty, compared to the chillier dungeon corridors, and made the room look regal, rather than the literal dungeon it could have easily resembled with its uneven stone walls. Couches, armchairs and low tables were littered around the room, arranged in different groups on beautifully detailed rugs. The two prefects guided them to sit in front of the biggest fireplace, with the most seats surrounding it. Soon four other students joined the prefects standing in front of them and Farley continued from where she’d left off.

 

“Now, first things first. Welcome to the Slytherin dungeon. These are the other Slytherin prefects. I’ll begin with the fifth-years, who are Jacob Travers,” She gestured to a boy with a scowl on his face. “and Isa Ferreira.” Ferreira had thick black straight hair, and features that reminded Eleanor strongly of her Italian teacher. “The seventh years are Adyn Hunter and Amanda Powell.” The boy looked like a brute, but the girl gave them all a small wave and a smile. “Now to get to everything we need to explain to you. The corridor where boy’s rooms are, is the one left of the windows, while girls are on the right. There is a limit of five students in a single dorm, so you girls will have to split into two groups. You can decide who goes where later.”

 

Zeller picked up from there. “And as said earlier, we Slytherins have some rules, that you need to be made aware of. Number one, house unity. Slytherin is now your second family, and after your blood families, comes loyalty to your house, and the people in it. You do not let the other houses see if you have problems with each other, nor blame another Slytherin for anything.”

 

Powell took over from Zeller. “Number two: as it is in most our natures to disregard rules if they would hinder us, it is important to never get caught. Always evaluate whether you should break whatever rule it is you are planning on doing, and if you can get away with it. And remember to have a plan for if you do get caught.”

 

“Rule number three: no outsiders in the common room. Don’t even think about it.” Hunter said with a dangerous smirk, silently promising retribution were they not to listen.

 

“And the last one, academic excellence.” Farley said. “You are all expected to be serious about your school work. We want our house at Hogwarts to reflect well on us later in life, and being known to come from a house with poor academics will not help with that.”

 

Ferreira smirked. “And we want to win the house cup and slacking off will cut from our points, meaning the house will not be happy.”

 

“If you are falling behind, you are required to ask for tutoring. Either from the teacher, your friends, or one of us. We can arrange for someone we know is good at whatever subject you’re struggling with, to help.” Farley added with a smile, which had gotten a little strained the second Ferreira opened her mouth. _Interesting._ “But that’s all the rules. We will be waiting for you in the common room tomorrow morning at quarter to eight to guide you to breakfast in time to get your schedules. Now, Michael will take you boys to your room. Girls, follow me.”

 

The corridor they were led into had doors on both sides, with names on the left hand doors and numbers on the right. “Your dorms are behind the doors with the names. Us prefects have the first three rooms, while the rest are a bit mixed. Because there has always been an excessive number of dorms in Slytherin and right now there are even more of them empty than usual, you can choose to either share or not, and with who after fourth year.” Farley then stopped as they got to the seventh and eighth doors. “These will be your dorms. The doors on the other side of the corridor are your bathrooms, two for each year, as always.” She gave them a smile. “That’s me done. Just decide how to divide yourselves into two groups, and the plaques on the doors will automatically list your names when you step inside. See you all in the morning!” With that she turned around to head to her own room.

 

There was a moment of silence as they just looked anywhere, but each other. Eleanor knew she’d either share with Greengrass and Davis, or Parkinson. It all came down to who she wanted to associate herself with. The Malfoy tag-along, who Eleanor might be able to befriend, but could become problematic with Harry taken into account, or the two friends who’d likely not include her in anything, but at the same time giving her plenty of privacy. The less complicated option easily won out, and she looked at Greengrass. “Would you two mind sharing with me?”

 

Greengrass nodded slightly, her white blond ponytail falling off her shoulder, where she’d previously had it. “Not at all.”

 

Eleanor led the way to the closest room, with Greengrass and Davis following in after her. There were two windows on the far wall, three four poster beds with desks and armoires next to each one, and enough free space in the middle of the room for maybe two couches. There were none, but there was space for that if they wanted to bring in furniture at some point. Their trunks suddenly popped into existence at the ends of their beds, Eleanor’s at the end of the single bed on the right.

 

Eleanor focused back to her new roommates as Davis looked like she wanted to say something. “We should probably introduce ourselves properly. I’m Tracey Davis of house Davis.”

 

“Daphne Greengrass, heir of house Greengrass.” Greengrass’ smile was much more reserved than her friend’s beam.

 

“Well met heir Greengrass, Davis. I’m Eleanor Edwards of house Potter.” She smirked.

 

Davis spluttered at that, while Greengrass’ mouth opened a smidge in her shock. Greengrass quickly got herself under control, and her expression was again cold. Not completely inscrutable, the way Kat's parents usually are, but a good front. “I wasn’t aware there were any other Potter’s on the isles than Harry Potter himself.” Greengrass said.

 

Eleanor was finally enjoying herself, these types of word games were exactly what she liked. “Hmm, no there are, but I wouldn’t expect many to know.” She was finding it hard to smother the smirk that was trying to break free. If Greengrass wanted to know more, she’d be forced to ask directly.

 

“Are you related to him then?” Davis asked, interrupting the small game that Eleanor had hoped to begin with Greengrass, causing her to almost pout. She’d been excited for a second there.

 

“Yes, his twin actually.” She casually turned around to open her trunk, avoiding the looks directed at her, or she'd likely be unable to suppress her giggles. “Either of you have any family attending right now?”

 

“Anthony Goldstein is my cousin, and my younger sister will join us when she turns eleven.” Greengrass answered after a beat of silence.

 

“I don’t have any siblings, but there’s one cousin in Slytherin and one in Hufflepuff.” Davis said flopping down on her bed. “Hmmm, what subjects are you looking forward to? I think I would otherwise love the history lessons, always have, but my cousins have told me that the professor is horribly boring.” She asked.

 

Eleanor answered while beginning to sort her things into the armoire and desk on either side of her bed. “Potions and charms seem like the most useful of all the subjects in day to day living, but I’d be lying if I said defense against the dark arts didn’t interest me.” She lifted her school books in a pile on her desk, while placing the rest on the single shelf above it. “But I had heard a rumor that the teaching for that subject was patchy at best with the professor changing every year.” She’d read between the lines of professor McGonagall’s letters, and come to the conclusion that she might have to self-study defense. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to, and this years teacher would be fine, because she had too much planned for her spare time already.

 

Greengrass had begun her own unpacking and was lifting a robe out of her trunk. “Yes, that is true. Some are convinced that the position is cursed as no one seems able to hold on to it.”

 

“It’s weird that they haven’t gotten someone in to try and break the curse if there is one. Mum thinks it ‘the height of idiocy.” Davis laughed.

 

They continued talking until they were all ready for bed. Eleanor sat in her bed combing her hair, just having come out of the shower. The bathroom was beautiful and had five shower stalls and five toilets. The number of the stalls finally allowed her to fully understand just how small the number of students was at the moment. Thinking about it, she estimated that in normal circumstances there would be 15-20 girls sharing the bathrooms, that now were only used by the six of them. The war must have been horrifying to experience if it had had such an impact on the birth rates, and she hoped she’d never have to live during such times herself.

 

* * *

 

The first week of school had been fascinating. Most days her lessons began at nine, Thursday being the only exception with History of Magic being their first class at quarter past ten. And those history lessons had been just as horrible as Davis had predicted. Professor Binns was a ghost, which would’ve usually excited Eleanor, but the fact of the matter was that she had never experienced a lesson as boring as Binns’. His voice was monotone, and the entire lesson consisted of him lecturing, and no one getting any of their questions answered. Since minimal knowledge could be retained from the ghost’s soporific monologues, she had promptly began asking around for the course aims for all seven years of history so she’d know what to study on her own. By Friday evening she had the first three years covered, with help from some older Hufflepuffs, who’d meticulously researched school archives and recreated their earlier exams for the same reason she now had, and just made a note to herself to find out about the fourth year later. O.W.Ls year could be handled by getting her hands on the official requirements for the subject, and she doubted she’d want to continue history after fifth year. Yes, it’s always good to know history, but with Binns, she’d be better off focusing her attention elsewhere. Some of the other lessons had been a bit boring too, because they were primarily focused of theory for now, most of which she’d already learned during the summer. Except the match they’d transfigured to a needle, or for most of the shared class with Hufflepuff, tried to. She had noticed immediately, that transfiguration was nowhere near as easy as the charms she’d tried so far. She’d only managed the transfiguration fourth in class, and had decided to dedicate her Saturdays and Sundays for practicing whatever spells they learned during the week and perfecting her control of them, similarly to what she’d done with the _lumos_ -charm, so using them wouldn’t be as hard as where they left it in their lessons. She did take copious notes of everything though, even in those theory heavy lessons, and there had been some great tidbits of information. Like when professor McGonagall explained more about what self-transfiguration was in answer to her questions, or the tour around the different greenhouses which showed a vast selection of magical plants she’d never even thought to imagine, let alone heard of, or professor Flitwick’s show of the man’s favorite charms. Professor Quirrell’s defense-lessons were a pleasant surprise with how knowledgeable he was, given that you could understand what he was trying to say. The professor stuttered nearly all his sentences. She loved it when the professors showed her new things, because she wanted to know everything there was to know about the magical world. She wanted this, needed this opportunity to finally be whatever she wanted to be. Before, she’d been content with doing as told by her guardians, as long as it guaranteed their favor later in life. But now, she had so many more options for what her life might be, and she would not let it slip away from her.

 

Of all her lessons, the double potions on Friday morning was the only one she shared with her brother and the rest of first-year Gryffindors. In her opinion, they should have made sure that Slytherins and Gryffindors never share a class. It had been chaotic right from the beginning as professor Snape took register, and made a spectacle of Harry with comments about ‘celebrity’. If the professor hadn’t wanted to cater to Harry’s status, he should’ve just ignored Harry. Eleanor was pretty sure Snape just wanted to goad Harry in order to humiliate him, not something any professor should be allowed to do. She had scowled at her table, while Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle snickered at Harry losing points. She did know two of the three answers for the questions the professor had asked, but why would they be required to know that kind of material before the first lesson? There should’ve been a note, of what to study before the beginning of the year if the teachers wanted them to have previous knowledge on any given subject. Snape did not deserve the normal respect due to a professor if all his lessons were going to be like the first one. Of course, Eleanor had read about him being the youngest potions master in the over three hundred years the current qualification system had been in place, and she respected him immensely for that. But a teacher is not allowed to be biased towards their students, and that’s clearly what the man was as he blamed Harry for Longbottom’s failed potion. She needed to make finding out why the professor hated her twin a priority, and mentally added it to the list of things to look up at one point or another. The list was quite long already, what with wanting to learn what her godfather had done to end up in prison, why Dumbledore separated her and Harry, and other smaller things.

 

On Tuesday, Farley had showed her how to get to the dance studio, where she’d go to practice most days. The room was situated near the base of Ravenclaw-tower on the west-side of the castle. One of the walls in it was a single large floor to ceiling window looking out to the grounds toward the quidditch pitch, while the other walls were covered by large mirrors. Farley had told Eleanor, that she hadn’t even known of the room’s existence before Snape had asked her to show it to Eleanor. She’d have to carry in a bag whatever she needed for ballet, since the room had no lockers where she could leave her things. Every day after that her schedule had consisted of lessons, meeting with Harry, and once Harry and Ron, to do homework, or just chat for an hour or so, after which she dropped her books off at the dorms and got ready for ballet practice. Two hours in the dance studio, a shower, late dinner and then spending the evening reading whatever she had picked out from the library after dinner.

 

And that library was so far the best place she’d found in the entire castle. It was absolutely massive, and had hundreds of thousands of books in it. The first time she had dropped by on Monday, she spent half-an-hour just walking around the shelves, trying to memorize all the different categories the books were sorted in. One area was dedicated to magical species, one to spell creation, one for old newspapers near the history section and many, many others. Of course, when she got to the back of the library, she’d immediately noticed the restricted section and spent another twenty minutes wheedling all the rules concerning it from the librarian, Madam Pince. It was disappointing that she would have to wait until sixth year to have full access to the section, and even then only allowed one book at a time, but she supposed she could wait. Or manage to get permission for certain books earlier, but who knew. Anyway, she’d have the rest of the library to go through before she got access to the restricted books.

 

It was now Sunday, and she had decided to do some reading in the common room. She wanted a chance to observe the other Slytherins while they were relaxing. Knowing the people she was to live with for seven years was important if she hoped to avoid any difficulties or awkward situations with them. During the week she’d been too busy to just sit down for this purpose, and most of her year-mates were wary around her so no one had asked her to hang out with them. She had no idea whether Greengrass and Davis had told them she was Harry’s twin, but some Slytherins must have noticed how alike they looked after seeing the two of them together. It was impossible not to notice it, really. And depending on the person, it might have been easier on her to just be known as an anonymous half-blood, than a Potter. But she was proud of everything her family had done, and would readily tell anyone her real name, were they to ask. Sitting on one of the cushioned window seats, she kept her book open on her knees, pretending to read ‘Useful Household Charms’, while listening in on the nearest group to her. The group of girls consisted of the second-year Hestia and Flora Carrows, Kayla Dolohov and third-year Genevieve King. Eleanor had overheard earlier in the week some Gryffindors talking about the group, and as the Carrow twins were easy to recognize, Eleanor could guess who the other two were. And besides, King seemed to be the only third year to associate with any of the younger crowd. Apparently the four bullied kids from the other houses, but always got away with it. At least that’s what the Gryffindors had said, but Eleanor didn’t know how accurate that information was, what with how negatively many of them seemed to react to Slytherins.

 

The discussion of the four was mostly focused on the new defense professor, complaining about the stutter, before turning to Eleanor’s brother.

 

“Oh Merlin, please let’s not talk about him.” One of the Carrows groaned. Eleanor stiffened minutely, knowing she could not let the group find out she was listening in. She knew perfectly well how to pick her battles, and this one most definitely wasn’t one worth the hassle. But she would commit to memory the names of any who insulted her or her brother.

 

“Maybe we should do something about that ego of his. It’s ridiculous seeing him strutting about, refusing to talk to the people trying to get his attention.” The other Carrow said.

 

Eleanor internally bristled at that, because Harry most definitely did not _lavish in the adoring public’s attention_ , he was uncomfortable with it and had no idea how he should react to all the strangers who wanted to talk to him. Anyone who paid attention would see it. She could understand how it _might_ look to outsiders, but the reasoning for possibly attacking Harry was just as stupid as any of the bullies she’d met before.

 

“Hmph, maybe. It would be fun, but I’d bet they have some protections for him in place, so no one hurts the precious ‘Boy-Who-Lived’.” King sighed. “And getting caught harassing him would be bad.”

 

“Not as horrible to you Vi than us, mind. You might be able to play it off as something accidental.” Dolohov said raising an eyebrow at King.

 

“Like the teachers wouldn’t know I’m friends with you lot.” King rolled her eyes.

 

“Well, it was a fun idea.” The Carrow who had initially suggested doing something about Harry’s attitude laughed. She was definitely the one with more potential for violence of the two.

 

Eleanor mulled over all the possible implications of the conversation, as the group moved on to the next subject. The books she’d so far read had listed only some of the Death Eaters who had been captured, but Antonin Dolohov was one of those few, having been associated with Voldemort from the very beginning. That might be why Kayla couldn’t be seen as antagonistic toward Harry, but what about the Carrows? Eleanor would have to soon dedicate a day for looking through the old papers at the library to see about all the convictions and trials of the war. Maybe there would be clues as to why the Carrow surname could bring with it unwanted baggage.

 

Eleanor was so far into her own thoughts, that she forgot to continue turning the pages of her book, which didn’t go unnoticed by the group of girls she’d been listening to.

 

“Hey, you, Edwards was it? What the hell are you doing there?” the aggressive Carrow yelled, causing most of the people in the common room to pause.

 

“Listening in on us because no one wants a mudblood in their presence?” Dolohov jeered.

 

Eleanor calmly closed her book and straightened up from where she’d been leaning on the wall, while internally berating herself for forgetting to stay on guard. “Good day to you too Carrow, Dolohov.”

 

“Don’t try playing smart, bitch. It doesn’t suit you.” Dolohov smirked.

 

Discreetly looking around, Eleanor could see many people had abandoned their own conversations and were staring at the confrontation. Well, she just had to make sure she made the older girls look stupid, and not her.

 

“Funny.” She drawled, her face set into boredom. “By the way, you might want to check your facts from now on before you call someone a mudblood.”

 

“No one here knows a single family with the name Edwards, so you’ll have to excuse us if we don’t believe you just because you say something.” Carrow spat at her.

 

“Tell me, have you ever heard of this thing called _adoption_ ?” Eleanor carefully enunciated the word, the tone of her voice mirroring her expression. “It’s something that might happen to one when orphaned, yes? And during this process, the child’s surname can be changed.” The smile she gave the other girls was cutting. “Oh, but I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have expected you to be able to think of that as a possibility. It might actually require you to reconsider your initial conclusions, which is clearly a _very_ difficult thing to do.”

 

“Shut up! What family are you then claiming to be a part of, huh? Which of us should welcome you into our families, so your cheap ass can have nice things.” Dolohov growled.

 

Eleanor let out a small mocking laugh. “That’s actually funny. Me, needing anyone’s money? The earrings I’m wearing right now are worth more than your entire family vault after the war reparations.” She smirked, as Dolohov began turning red in embarrassment. “Oh, and don’t you worry about me barging into any of your families, my twin brother has already welcomed me with open arms.”

 

Dolohov glared at her. “Who is it then? I bet if we asked him, he’d say you’re full of shit.”

 

Eleanor glanced at the gathered crowd and could see the realization on many faces. They were the ones then, who’d either seen her with Harry, or heard about it.

 

“You can surely try harassing my brother, just as you were planning to a few minutes ago, but he’ll just report you.” The other three clearly caught on, with looks of apprehension being passed between them, but Dolohov was still just glaring. “Does the name Harry Potter, mean anything to you?”

 

“Wha- But- No..” The girl couldn’t get a coherent word out.

 

“Hmm.. yes. Now if you’re quite done, I’ll be going” Eleanor slipped her book into her bag, and hopped down. She’d just go to the library to actually read.

 

Before she got much closer to the door though, she heard the yell of ‘ _petrificus totalus!’_ and dropped into a crouch. As the spell whizzed past above her head, she faintly felt the electric crackle of the magic before it was gone. By the time the spell had hit some unfortunate person in the crowd Eleanor had already her own wand flicked out, and was rising back up. Furious. “ _Flipendo!”_ She hit Dolohov, who was clearly the only one with her wand out. Dolohov got thrown on her back on the floor, and Eleanor aimed the severing charm, _Diffindo,_ at the girl’s skirt, which ripped open at the front. She'd humiliate the idiot in front of the whole house for trying anything. Dimly Eleanor noted that she’d have to practice the charm more in order to make it neater, as she strode over to the shocked Dolohov.

 

“Do. Not. Attack. Me. Again.” Eleanor hissed as she reached the other girl, and promptly kicked Dolohov's ankle causing her to yelp in pain. Giving one more hateful look to Dolohov, Eleanor turned back around to leave, but was faced with the still staring crowd. “The show is over.” She ground out from between clenched teeth, before elbowing her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos! Love you all. 
> 
> I hate coming up with chapter names, when I use the dates in the beginning anyway, so I'm just going to stop doing that. Now I wanted to explain some things about Eleanor's personality, so if you'd rather not know, but find out as the story goes on, by all means skip this. That's what I usually do if given the option. Anyway.
> 
> So we all know by now, that canon Harry is quick to anger, but doesn't hold grudges. Ever, I think. Like toward the Dursleys, or Ron for fourth year, or Dumbles raising him like a 'pig for slaughter' etc. He's so good! As a person. For Eleanor, or Ella, I wanted her to have some of the same characteristics as Harry, but not others. Like in this chapter, Ella is clearly just as quick to anger as Harry at his worst, but she doesn't let go of that anger like Harry does. I'm blaming this on Harry growing up in an abusive house, where he had to learn to let go of his anger or suffer the consequences. Ella on the other hand was taken away from the orphanage relatively early, even if not early enough. Also the fact that she could use her anger to protect herself while there, left quite the impression on her psyche.  
> Ella doesn't believe in saviors, because even when she was taken away from the orphanage, the world and family she was thrust into when so young was impossibly hard to understand and fit in. And no true love or care was offered even by those who took her away. Unlike Harry, who got friends, and was treated with kindness by adults for the first time in his life when saved. He believes in saviors, and therefore has incredible difficulty seeing his saviors in negative light, no matter what they do.  
> Ella also has little to no care for anyone's well-being, except those she's formed a bond with. I recognize that this sounds like sociopathic or more widely APD behaviour, what with her difficulty to understand her emotions as well, but I'm really not trying to write her as one, since I'd most definitely fail horribly. I'm no psychologist, I try my best, but the only things I actually know heaps about are various eating disorders and depression. So she might resemble a sociopath in some things, but if I add things to her personality that don't fit into that, it's because I'm not trying to make her fit a single diagnostic. Like that she usually plans ahead, rather than acts impulsively. Of course she's still just 11, and kids personalities are in flux, but my intention is not to make her a sociopath.


	6. Chapter 6

**September 19th 1991**

 

In hindsight, Eleanor thanked her lucky stars that the spells she’d used on Dolohov had worked, as she’d never tried them before. If it had been a transfiguration that she’d tried, the situation would have quickly become embarrassing, because by third week of school she could clearly see that her talents mostly lay in charms and defence. Herbology was fine, and she did enjoy potions, but they weren’t subjects in which she was the  _ best  _ at. And transfiguration was actually sometimes difficult. That fight with the second-years had not warmed any people to her in Slytherin. She supposed many of the older students didn’t much care, other than to take note that her proficiency with a wand was surprisingly good, for a first-year in her first week of school. But she was still only eleven. The other first-years were either even more cautious around her, or in the case of Malfoy, sneering at her. Her brother hadn’t gotten along with Malfoy ever since the two’s confrontation on the train, so she understood perfectly well why the boy’s attitude was what it was. But even with the looks thrown her way quite often, the only comment she’d gotten on the fight was a simple ‘Nice work’ from Davis that night. She did wish she could have talked about it all with Sarah and Katarina, but all she could do was send a modified version of the story in a letter. And even delivering it took such a long time, since first Garima had to take it to Anne and David, who then posted it to Eleanor’s friends when they had time. It was frustrating, but at least she had some form of communication left with them, as magical people apparently had discounted the idea of phones. She would’ve probably just buried herself in the library already without her friends letters and Harry. She had continued hanging out with her brother nearly every day, and she’d even dragged him along to watch her practice ballet a couple of times. During their studying together, with Eleanor nagging Harry to try spells in advance too, they noticed that Harry was almost as good as Eleanor in defence, would probably be just as if he spent as much time studying, but where she was good at charms, he did much better with transfiguration. At least that’d guarantee one of them would be successful in those classes and could help the other.

 

It was the Thursday of the third week of school, and Harry, along with the rest of the first-years had been impossible to deal with ever since the announcement had been made of coming flying lessons: Thursday afternoon for Slytherins and Gryffindors, Friday morning for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Harry was bouncing around in his excitement, even if he had confided in Eleanor that he was a bit scared about ‘looking like a fool’. She’d just huffed and told him, that if anyone thought Harry had to master flying right away and treated him badly if he didn’t, they were not worth either of their attention. Eleanor herself wasn’t happy about any of it. She hadn’t enjoyed heights in a long time, and would rather not get up in the air on a flimsy stick of wood. Ballet was her sport of choice and she’d be just as happy never to learn how to play Quidditch, even if she did see the benefit of having a broom as a possible method of transport.

 

“Ella, please, please, let’s go already! There’s only fifteen minutes to the start of the lesson. Fifteen!” Harry whinged tugging on Eleanor’s robe sleeve.

 

“And it’s plenty of time.” She answered rolling her eyes, but allowed Harry to drag her toward the doors. “Aren’t you going to wait for Weasley?”

 

“He wanted to drop his bag off at the dorms, and you’re here already, so I said we’d go ahead. Now, move it.” He said. “And why can’t you just call him Ron? I’ve asked you to.”

 

“He’s not my friend, he’s yours, and he doesn’t like me. I don’t think that would change if I started calling him by his given name.” She sighed. “He’s a bit of an idiot.”

 

“I know you think he is, no need to keep saying it, please.” Harry said frowning as they stepped outside. “He’d probably like you more, if you stopped doing that.”

 

“No, he wouldn’t, and that’s  _ exactly  _ why I think he’s an idiot. He has in in his head that all Slytherins are evil, or some such rot, and that’s just not true.” She retorted.

 

“Well,  _ many  _ of the Slytherins are mean and prejudiced.  _ You  _ said not long ago that they think less of those who aren’t pure-blood, or at least half.” He challenged crossing his arms.

 

“Not all of them. Not even close. That’s so improbable it’s not even funny.” She answered exasperatedly. “Sure, there are bigots, obviously, but most people there don’t talk about any of that in the common room. I guess some of it is because if no one talks about it, they won’t know who might get offended. Anyway, it’s much more complicated than what you make it out to be.”

 

“Hmph. I still think you should be careful.” Harry muttered.

 

They were approaching where the lesson would be held, going by the two lines of broomsticks laid out on the ground, and as Eleanor didn’t want the others who’d already arrived to hear their talk she let the matter go. “I will Jamie.” She said with a smile, because of course she always was, but it wasn’t worth it to continue. 

 

Looking for a decent broom to use proved a difficult task, as most seemed to be falling apart. After she’d chosen the one which looked the safest to her, Harry stood by the one in front of her, since all the Gryffindors so far lingered on that side, while the Slytherins were on hers. The rivalry between the two houses was useless in her opinion, and she just felt exasperated with them all. They were just school houses, not the be-all end-all of life. On that note, what could have possibly made the situation as bad as it was at the moment? Another thing to look into at some point. She’d already been jeered at by older Gryffindors, even if the younger set held back because of how close she was to Harry. She didn’t want to think what school might’ve been like, had she not had Harry. These kids had magic, not just the normal means of bullying. A lone Slytherin first-year would be a prime victim for most of the school. But on the other hand, if she felt like she needed to, she would have tried harder with the other Slytherins. For now she was content with just Harry.

 

The instructor, Madam Hooch, arrived at exactly three-thirty. “Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!” She ordered them in a harsh tone.

 

Everyone who hadn’t already done so, rushed to claim a broom, and Eleanor could see Harry glancing at his nervously. It was in the same shape as the others, as in not good, but it wouldn’t surprise Eleanor if Harry hadn’t noticed that before.

 

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” Madam Hooch yelled. “and say: UP!”

 

Shouts of the word rang all around Eleanor, and she saw Harry’s broom jumping to his hand promptly. She looked down at her own, and when she called on the broom to get up, she could feel her magic forming something like a string between it, and her palm, and that line pulling the broom to her hand. Glancing up, she saw Harry grinning at her, and she flashed her own smile to him. Some others had managed to get their brooms up as well, but most were struggling. She almost laughed when Weasley managed to get his to hit him in the face.

 

When everyone had their brooms in hand, they were shown how to mount them properly, and how to steer. Madam Hooch then went around to check everyone’s grips. When Harry and Weasley snickered at her needing to correct Malfoy, Eleanor just sighed. Her life would be easier if the boys behaved.

 

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly.” Madam Hooch paused to look around and make sure that everyone had been listening. “On my whistle: three, two..”

 

Unfortunately, before Madam Hooch could even blow her whistle, Longbottom had shot up. And kept rising, five feet, ten, fifteen. Eleanor vaguely remembered that the pudgy, toad-losing boy had looked awfully nervous the last two days whenever flying came up. As she followed the boy’s ascent, she could see his face losing the little colour it had had before they had been instructed mount the brooms. Lost control due to fear then.

 

“Come back, boy!”

 

Madam Hooch’s yell did kind of have the desired effect, and not, as Longbottom  _ did  _ come back down. Regrettably though, not on his broom, which continued lazilly drifting toward the Forbidden Forest, after it’s flier startled and tipped over. He met the ground with the nasty cracking sound of bones breaking. Hooch quickly ran to the boy and bent over, muttering about broken wrists.

 

With a look on her face promising to live up to her words Hooch turned to the rest of the class. “None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’.”

 

Eleanor stared incredulously at the instructors back as she hurried toward the closest doors back inside. What a stupid idea, leaving eleven year-olds who have no impulse control, alone with flying brooms. She was beginning to believe none of these adults had any clue as to how to keep kids in line. Well except for a few of the teachers, like McGonagall.

 

Malfoy’s laugher rang out the second they could hear the castle doors thumping shut. “Did you see his face, the great lump?” His group chuckled with him. Bulstrode and Runcorn had lately begun gravitating toward Malfoy too, and joined in with their giggles. Eleanor’s own face portrayed only boredom. She wouldn’t break the house rules, especially for something this small, but she didn’t have to pretend to be amused. Honestly, Malfoy’s comment wasn’t the least bit witty.

 

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Patil snapped angrily. And there was the other reason, apart from brooms, why Madam Hooch had to be delusional. Gryffindors and Slytherins managed to egg each other on like no ones business, and soon they’d have a small-scale war to deal with.

 

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Parkinson winked. “Never thought, you’d like fat little crybabies Parvati.”

 

Patil scowled and was about to say something, when Malfoy yelled: “Look! It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him!” He was turning something round and glasslike in his fingers.

 

“Give that here, Malfoy.” Harry said quietly, staring straight at the blonde. Everyone else stilled and Eleanor had never wanted to hex her brothers mouth shut more. Here was where everything would escalate. Maybe she should actually begin learning some hexes rather than just working ahead in her classes. There was bound to be interesting things in the books stashed around the common room. So far Eleanor had found six, scouted during late nights or early mornings when the common room had been empty and she was free to poke around. The one behind an illusion at the side of the biggest fireplace looked the most promising, as leafing through it had revealed the technical aspects of most of the spells in it to be around similar level of difficulty as those she’d seen on third year charms books in the library. Not like the nearly incomprehensible nastiness of the book on curses in the jaws of one of the snakes in the room. It was weird though, that the jaws had cracked wide enough for her to slide the book out, only after she’d frustratedly asked it to open up.

 

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect. How about, up a tree?” Malfoy suggested, grinning maliciously. 

 

“Give it  _ here! _ ” Harry yelled, but Malfoy was already on his broom, ready to kick off.

 

“Come and get it Potter!” Malfoy snickered flying high above all of them.

 

Eleanor tried desperately to catch her brother’s attention, but to no avail. She cursed under her breath as Harry took off as well, paying no mind to Granger’s warning about Hooch. Eleanor had to admit the boy was a natural as he swooped up with confidence, but she could not help the occasional swear as she followed the trading of taunts between the two fliers. The whoops and screams of the others were muted background noise to her fervent hoping Harry would get back down before Hooch caught them. Not that she actually believed they’d expel the Boy-Who-Lived, but whatever the punishment, it’d be bad. Then, suddenly, Malfoy threw the glass orb, and Harry was diving, freezing Eleanor to the spot. That looked dangerous. Too dangerous. For a second she could see a different person falling, before blinking back to reality, as Harry pulled up just in time. The sudden rush of adrenaline felt dizzying and she took in a huge gulp of air. 

 

“HARRY POTTER!” Professor McGonagall’s yell drowned out the cheers of the Gryffindors as she ran toward the class. “Never.. in all my time at Hogwarts..”

 

Eleanor winced. If a professor was angry enough to be rendered nearly speechless, Harry would be in serious trouble. 

 

“How _dare_ you? Might have broken your neck!” McGonagall’s eyes were flashing furiously.

 

Some of the Gryffindors tried to explain the situation, but they were quickly shut down by the professor who began leading Harry away. Eleanor turned around and felt her eyes narrowing on Malfoy, who was trying to muffle his snickering. She’d make sure to pay the boy back some time for deliberately getting Harry in trouble. It was frustrating that Malfoy had already managed to figure out how to best rile Harry up. Not that it was hard to do. She’d one day have to teach Harry some self-control. And maybe herself too, she grimaced as she felt the snapping of her magic. It always did than when her emotions were running high. Turning her back on Malfoy she focused on what she’d planned to do for the rest of the day, to distract herself.

 

\----

 

“You did what?” Eleanor asked pleasantly, feeling her magic rising in response for the second time that day.

 

“Made sure your dear brother won’t be bothering us anymore.” Malfoy answered with a smirk. He was lounging on one of the common room couches, his friends surrounding him.

 

“Ah. Of course. Because you actually believe anything you can do would get him expelled?” Eleanor asked, keeping her tone as friendly as she could. She waited for Malfoy to answer his, ‘yes’, before continuing. “You seem to be forgetting who it is that you’re antagonizing. Oh dear,” She gasped, “it must be horrible to realize how little you mean, how small your reach is compared to Harry’s. I’m so sorry, that you only now understood it.”

 

Malfoy was nearly gaping in his shock, before anger took over, twisting his features. “I’m the Malfoy heir, you have no right! You’re the only nobody here, with a muggle name. Wait til my father hears about this!”

 

“Run to daddy dearest,  _ please  _ do. Complain to him about the mean girl in your house, and see what he can do. Daddy Malfoy, the imperius victim.” Eleanor’s smile turned nasty. “It’s such a shame isn’t it that your all powerful daddy was so weak as to succumb to that unforgivable for  _ such  _ a long time. Couldn’t fight it off during any of those long years of war.” She’d finally read about the key players in the war, and was impressed by exactly how incompetent the MoM truly was. At least the DMLE and Wizengamot in their prosecution and investigation of criminals, because many of the decisions detailed in different texts seemed ludicrous. Clearly the system didn’t work as it was. She was also finding it hard not to hate her godfather with a burning passion. So far she hadn’t managed to locate any details of his trial in books, but she expected to find them in some paper from after he was captured. She wanted to know first, needed to know if there had been any extenuating circumstances, or if her parents had just made the worst possible choices in who to trust. Raiding the Hogwarts library archives for all the old newspapers for all she wanted to know, would take more than a weekend though so she was putting it off until Easter holidays when she had a week off. That’s why she hadn’t said anything to Harry either, and was just plainly refusing to think about any of it.

 

Malfoy’s face had paled with the insinuations in Eleanor’s comment, but the expression was still of pure unadulterated fury. “You bitch!” He nearly growled. “I could get my father to declare a feud with your family.”

 

“Oh yes, you could, but on what grounds? All I’ve done is be sympathetic to your plight, isn’t it?” Eleanor blinked her eyes guilelessly, the picture of naivety, driving her point across nicely. “Your father would be under immense heat for declaring a public feud on the golden defenseless Potters, making his life unnecessarily difficult. Or have your parents not ensured your education? Dear me.” Her face was arranged into an expression of compassion when she ended her sentence.

 

When Malfoy just spluttered, unable to get in a retort fast enough, Eleanor continued. “Glad to have had this conversation, now if you’ll excuse me, I have an essay to complete.”

 

She turned to head to the dorm, not really needing to do any homework as she’d completed it hours ago, but deciding to go away before she was involved in another scene in the common room. So far no one had really paid attention to the small confrontation, and she wanted to keep it that way. Opening the door to her, Davis and Greengrass’ room she again remembered why she’d even talked to Malfoy. Apparently Harry had somehow skirted all punishment for the flying and gotten talked into a duel in the trophy room by Malfoy. Who had set the whole thing up as a way to get Harry caught out of bed by tipping off Filch. Damn it. Harry would surely not escape punishment if he got caught breaking the rules twice in a day. Even disgusting favoritism had to have it’s limits. Sadly it was already after curfew and she couldn’t go and find Harry to warn him.

 

Davies and Greengrass came in sometime later, as Eleanor was copying down some of the hexes and jinxes she’d found in the book in the common room.

 

“Eleanor Edwards, you are a piece of work.” Davis said with a laugh when she spotted Eleanor.

 

“Oh, how so?” Eleanor asked, smirking but not turning her attention away from what she was writing. ... _ The incantation for this jinx is Furnuculus with the wand-movement as shown above. The side-effect of small tentacles growing from the victim’s face can be achieved by using in conjunction with the Jelly-Legs Jinx... _

 

“You should go off on people more often, that was highly entertaining.” Greengrass told Eleanor, settling on her desk-chair and completely ignoring Eleanor’s attempt at confusion. They all knew it was faked anyway.

 

“Against my better judgement, I like you Edwards.” Davies added with a beam on her face.

 

Eleanor glanced up at that and gave Davies a sharp smile. “Be careful with that.”

 

“Psh, I have Daph to keep me from getting into too much trouble.” Davies answering grin was wide.

 

* * *

 

‘ _ I was so wrong!’ _ Eleanor thought incredulously. Clearly there was no limit to the favoritism. She had been in the library getting her potions essay out to let Harry look over it and maybe get some ideas for his own essay, when he had flopped down into the chair across from hers and immediately began the story of his late-night activities. Running around the school, ending up in forbidden corridors and meeting a cerberus. And then the real kicker: when she’d congratulated him on dodging getting into more trouble than he already was in, Harry said he hadn’t gotten reprimanded by McGonagall, but instead put on the Quidditch team as a seeker. In what world do teachers reward students for breaking the rules? In the wizarding one apparently. She was completely caught off guard and just stared at Harry, begging with her eyes for him to be joking. It’s not that she wanted Harry to be put in detention or the like, more like she could not believe that the professors could be allowed to be that biased. She should honestly have guessed, what with the way Snape acted in his classes, but still. And professor McGonagall being willing to bend a nearly century-old rule of first years not allowed on the house teams or even to bring their brooms to Hogwarts, was insanity. Somehow Harry didn’t think there was anything wrong with the adult’s behavior, and so Eleanor just swallowed the comments she wanted to make and moved on to the potions homework.

 

* * *

 

**September 27th**

 

The next flying lesson a week later was at least less dramatic, but it had no effect on Eleanor’s desire to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground. She could actually fly fairly decently, her impeccable balance and reflexes holding up even in air, but being supremely uncomfortable every time she looked down made the whole experience annoying. Were she to have to use a broom in the future, she would be fine as long as she didn’t have to keep track of the people around her, forcing her to glance at the ground every now and then.

 

It was Friday now, and she was walking back from dinner, when she heard raised voices from a not often used corridor to her left.

 

“...should hear what Rickett sometimes says. All you’ll be ever good for is opening those legs of yours.”

 

The nasty comment caused Eleanor to pause for a second before continuing silently toward the voices. No need to charge in nor get blamed for eavesdropping before knowing exactly what was happening. Getting to the last corner before the corridor the people were in, she leaned against the wall.

 

“You don’t even know Anthony.” Davis small voice answered. It had none of the exuberance the girl was becoming known for, startling Eleanor.

 

_ ‘It had to be someone she could benefit from helping, didn’t it.’  _ She groused internally. If it had been most anyone else, she would have just listened without stepping in. She didn’t care one whit if someone was bullied, but the information one could glean was invaluable. Knowing people’s personalities and histories is always useful. Steeling her resolve, Eleanor peeked around the corner in order to plan what to do. Two Gryffindor boys, the same age as the Weasley twins, had backed Davis against a wall, one of them pointing their wand at Davis. Neither of the boys had noticed her yet, focusing fully on Davis.

 

“Mmm. And how would you know that? It’s not like you’ve ever before seen him at school.” The same boy who’d spoken earlier jeered. His friend was the one with his wand out.

 

So, two third year Gryffindors to deal with, who probably didn’t have the best casting or spell repertoire in the school but likely still tean times better than herself. A surprise attack it was then.

 

“ _ Furnuculus! Locomotor wibbly! Fumos!”  _ The boil and jelly-legs jinxes were aimed at the boy with his wand out, while the smoke screen made sure Eleanor couldn’t be caught hexing people in the halls.

 

“What in Merlin’s nam- aaah!” The mouthy boy gave a pained yell as he too was hit with the boil jinx.

 

Eleanor sprinted the few steps to where Davis had been and blindly groping around found the girl’s arm and hauled her up. Wanting to get away before the smokescreen dissipated and revealed her identity, she dragged Davis into a run. Glancing back before rounding the corner she’d hid behind, she noted that the first combination of jinxes had worked spectacularly: green tentacles were quickly growing the first boy’s face. Only after they were a fair long distance away did she push Davis in an empty classroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

 

“Eleanor? What?” Davis asked in a wavering and dazed voice. The brunette’s eyes were wide as she stared at Eleanor.

 

“You got yourself in quite the situation back there.” Eleanor sighed, sitting on one of the desks left in the room. As a nod was her only answer, she abandoned subtly trying to get Davis to spill. Clearly she was too shaken to concentrate. “Why wasn’t Greengrass with you?”

 

“She wanted to have an early night and left dinner before I was finished.” Davis explained and sat heavily on a desk of her own, visibly beginning to come back to herself.

 

“What’d they attack you for? Seemed personal.” Eleanor asked leaning back on her arms.

 

“Remember when I said I had one cousin in Slytherin and one in Hufflepuff? Anthony Rickett is the Hufflepuff one, and according to Towler and Twycross he’s been spreading shit about me. We’ve never been too close, but I thought he was nice enough. I guess he’s been listening to his dad.” Davis said looking down dejectedly.

 

“How so?” Eleanor was busy attaching names to faces in her mind, while trying to think of a way to get revenge on Rickett. Giving Davis a possible way for payback would  _ definitely  _ have the girl in her debt. More than she already was.

 

“Well, his dad is my mum’s brother, they’re both muggleborn, and he never liked the idea that she married a pureblood. Their relationship is still good, but his disapproval is obvious. Clearly he’s been telling stories to his own son about how awful pureblood rules can be.”

 

Eleanor barely suppressed the nasty grin trying to spread on her face. “Then all you need to do is remind Rickett that your mother can make life hell for him, and ta-da! you have a person willing to do your bidding in exchange for silence.”

 

Davis’ eyes were round again as she lifted her face to stare at Eleanor. “You’re fast.”

 

Eleanor just sniggered. “Thank you.”

 

“Please call me Tracey.” Davis, Tracey now, offered with a grin of her own.

 

She nodded. “Eleanor, then.”

 

Tracey seemed to finally notice where they were as she looked around. “Why exactly are we here?”

 

“Waiting for you to gather your wits enough to ask that exact question.” Eleanor answered jumping off the desk she’d been sitting on. “And I’d prefer not to run into the Gryffindor bastards right after jinxing them.” She opened the door slightly to look around, and seeing no one in the corridor stepped outside.

 

“Right.” Tracey laughed. “Good work by the way.”

 

Eleanor glanced back and winked. “Don’t tell anyone.”

 

Tracey straightened her clothes which had been rumpled and walked over to Eleanor. “Common room?”

 

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

From then on Eleanor’s solitary existence in the dungeons was no more, as starting the very next day, Daphne and Tracey adopted her into their friendship. No words were ever said but evidently Eleanor’s two dorm mates had decided to take her helping Tracey as proof that she was someone worth befriending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter and late, but what can I say, I got distracted by another story I'm writing. Sorry about that. Thank you all for the kudos <3


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